


A Step of the Heart

by DescriptivePessimism_DAA



Series: PAN: 4869APTX [2]
Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: AU-duh, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bad at tagging, But obviously due to the KaiShin tag that is prioritized, F/F, F/M, He's yelling at me for remembering Hakuba, Hopefully I'll remember there, Human Experimentation, Hurt-and-Suffering Main Character, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Kidnapped!Main Character (shouldn't I have added this tag way back?), M/M, My notes are more informative, Plus I don't wanna spoil, ShinRan and KaiAo are deadends, Sorry for forgetting you Hattori, but not him., just make sure to check the notes, too much...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2019-11-15 01:16:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 58,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18063797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DescriptivePessimism_DAA/pseuds/DescriptivePessimism_DAA
Summary: “Stop, you detective really have no consideration. Just leave it, Tantei-kun… if you can’t even respect that, just leave, forget that this ever happened and never show your face to me again.”Shin’ichi could hardly believe it, that he was hearing those same words again, from the person he never expected, the person he trusted to never say that to him.So, he watches as his white figure left on that infuriating familiar glider. Doesn’t stop, even as someone just shot him in the chest and moved to stuff him in a duffle bag.A lung shot, there was no way he could live through it, not without immediate medical attention, especially as this puny, pathetic form that is Edogawa Conan.He watches, even as he sees the blurred bob that is Kaitou Kid—who made a weird maneuver, maybe the wind got stronger? He couldn’t tell, everything was numbed now.He watches Kid’s form, until he couldn’t, swallowed by darkness.He welcomes his end, even as he now stares at endless white that is constantly stained with red. It’s his punishment, it’s only fair and right that he should take it.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> ( **Title:** A Step of the Heart  
>  **Category: **Fanfiction [are you sure you’re not lost?] also, disclaimer… because it wouldn’t be fanfiction otherwise. (The characters belong to Gosho Aoyama—and wouldn’t you guys already know the drill of this?)  
> ****  
>  **Rating:** M… duh, I’ll try not to make it MA. _Try_.  
>  **Character/s:** Kudou Shin’ichi | Edogawa Conan, Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid, Black Organization  
>  **Genres:** Angst, Hurt/Comfort.  
>  **Ship/s:** Slowburn!KaiShin (technically, KaiCon), Hinted!HakuKai, Deadend: ShinRan and KaiAo. Eventual HakuKaiShin(Con)… _maybe_.
> 
>  
> 
> **Implemented Headcanons:  
> **  
>  —Multiple Rum Theory.  
> —Prototype Poisons has No Antidotes.  
> —Kaito doesn’t know Conan is Shin’ichi(Kudou).  
> —Ran doesn’t wait for Shin’ichi, nor does Aoko for Kaito.  
> —Hakuba secretly loves Kaito, and is caring for him.  
> —HakuKai bromance.  
> —Karasuma is AnoKata (Sorta).  
> (Also, the identity of AnoKata is but a mere speculation on my part as of |31st of January, 2019 and the plot formed on February 14th and thickened on the 25th| because I do not know when I will get around to upload this.)
> 
>  
> 
> **Warnings:  
> **  
>  This is not for the faint of heart, not safe for work—and not in a perverse sense… well, yes, but it has more aggressive themes because sexual content isn’t that dominant, _in fact_ only hinted.  
> But it is a trigger!warning for the future gore, torture content, suicide attempts, depressing contents(of course), murder, betrayal, heartbreak, and human experimentation—which is honestly just scratching the surface, a lot of hurt—a bit of comfort—angst and tragedy. _(Not in that order._ )  
> I will not be held responsible for those that died of heavy heart (or the feels) because of this… because I’m sure my heart isn’t beating anymore… not while writing this shit. (Curse my wretched mind.)
> 
>  
> 
> **But anyways. Here it is.**
> 
>  
> 
> **Read responsibly.**
> 
>  
> 
> **_Oh_ … and a _dditional warning_ : Character death. (Both Major and Minor… and a lot of OCs, but meh, they’re there for casualty purposes anyways.)**
> 
>  
> 
> **[And to those that think I’m heartbroken, and being bitter. I am, just not in the lover-broke-up-with-me heartbroken.  
> **  
>  I’ve always been bitter and jaded, no surprise there.]
> 
>  
> 
> **Anyways, I’ve kept you long enough… _enjoy_.)  
> **  
> 

> **| プロローグ|**

 

Conan stares blankly ahead at the night sky, disturbed, upset, and _disappointed_ by the Phantom Thief’s retreating form—this one not a dummy, because he just saw Kaito— _no_ , Kid— _it’s Kid now_ … leave without any tricks, a simple exit.

(Leaving _him_.)

His heart felt like sinking, and choked with how he couldn’t seem to breathe, something lodged in his throat… but he just feels numb, _empty_.

Because Kaito—no, he can’t call him Kaito _anymore_ , _never Kaito_. Just as he’ll never be Conan, Shin’ichi or anyone to Kai— _Kid_. Kait— _no_ , it’s _KID!_ —just broke his promise, he strung him along— _no_ , more like Ka— _Kid!_ must have gotten sick of his prying, and here they are. The words are still echoing in his head.

 

 **_“Stop, you detectives really have no consideration. Just leave it, Tantei-kun…”_ ** _I really can’t trust you._

 

It wasn’t even the first time he heard them—well, maybe not the exact wording but the context, the unsaid, was exactly the same.

 

 ** _“If you can’t even respect that…”_** _Do you even really care?_

 

He had trusted Kai— _Kid_ not to—!

 

 ** _“Just leave, forget that this ever happened and never show your face to me again.”_** _I don’t want to see you anymore._

 

But of course… this is what he gets for getting too hopeful, because after all.

 

_He, formerly Kudou Shin’ichi, now Edogawa Conan, doesn’t deserve anything but his rotten luck, trouble magnetism, and death’s company._

 

He should be getting home now, Ran— _Ran-neechan’s_ bound to look for him any moment now. But he couldn’t help but remain rooted on the spot, staring at Kai—the _thief_ ’s retreating white form with the ever-iconic, trademark hang glider. Becoming even farther— _out of reach_ …

 

_Slipping like sand through his fingers._

 

He’d never been good at letting go, but he has never been good at holding on either. (As recent evidence prove to him.)

 

Then he feels a heavy cold stare drilling holes on the back of his head, a familiar cold, nerve-wracking, and fear-instilling sensation penetrating the cold atmosphere, making it feel freezing—as if it wasn’t already, with what had transpired earlier.

And he’s moving before he even realizes it, turning his back on Kid— _the thief, the one who…—_ he cuts off the thoughts, whirling around to face the undoubtedly Black Organization operative behind him, and he hears a loud, yet still slightly muted noise of a wine bottle popping open accompanied with whistling of speeding metal cutting through air. His eyes widening when he registers that the bullet whizzes pass just mere centimeters off his ear and he hears the bullet ricochet off the wall of the other building, with an answering crack where the bullet finally dug its grave.

Had he not moved as he did—and _when_ he did, it would’ve been buried in his head, into his brain stem, effectively killing him.

_For good._

 

But he stares, glaring at the man clad in black and partly hidden by the shadows, yet not as heated nor as powerful as he’d liked, utterly drained by their— _Kid’s_ heist and the conversation earlier. His dart-watch already up, aimed and ready to fire. But with the man’s angle, and how he hastily pulled it up, the needle would just hit the gun’s barrel that is now pointed at him.

The man makes a reprimanding tutting noise, effectively stopping him from re-aiming. The man grins, predator-like, and he doesn’t need to see the man’s eyes, to know they are cold-blooded and currently alight with excitement.

 

“Who are you?!” Shin’ichi— _Conan_ hisses, the best he could, quite unable to yell—not when his throat feels like it’s closing up again, nerves too high strung, unable to breathe again. Only for a completely different reason as fear gripped at him.

When Rum-potential suspects had begun closing in on him, he had known that he had caught the organization’s eye, somehow _. Had he been too smart? Way ahead of his peers?_

_Or was it something else entirely?_

 

_Kai—Kid, was he here for Kid?_

 

 _Kid_ , who is _still behind him_ , he couldn’t afford any—

 

“Look at you… how _adorable_ … Gin did a fine work, feeding you Sherry’s half-finished product, Shin’ichi-kun.” He froze, his heart pounded in his ears, making him deaf as he stared at the man. Cold lodging and burying itself to his very core, fear tearing him a new one. And before he could think it over, he re-aims his watch, fingers twitching for the switch, even though he’s shaking too much. His mind whirling—thinking of everyone, wondering, panic flaring if they were safe or not.

Because there was something oddly familiar with this man, but not like the way Gin did, familiar in a way that he’d _seen_ , _felt_ in _himself_ and his _father_. He shared Gin’s aura of a merciless, cold-blooded killer, only _worse_. Someone stronger, _greater_ — _worse_ than even _Gin_.

 

“Now, now… that’s bad Shin’ichi-kun… you shouldn’t aim toys, especially when you have such unsteady aim.” He nearly flings himself off the building when the man suddenly reaches him within two strides, holding and blocking his watch, completely swift, too quick and _silent_ in his movements. While he could only attempt to jolt back and stare at him in horror as he caught a faint glimpse of the man’s face illuminated in the moonlight.

 

_And it doesn’t make sense…_

 

Because _that face_ is _his, his_ _father’s_ and _his_ — _Kait_ — _Kid’s_ face!

 

The man smiles coldly, before he pulls them both back, letting the shadows cast over him once more.

“Now, we should step back a bit… we don’t want you to fall now do you, Shin’ichi-kun?”

 

“D-don’t act so familiar with me! I don’t even know who you are!” he tries to pull his hand from that light grip, that is surprisingly firm.

 

“Now, now… we both know that’s _a lie_ , and is that any way to treat your uncle?” and he stops, staring at the man with unbidden horror, confusion, and mixed feelings that he couldn’t even recognize anymore. The man smiles again, cold, as apathetic, as _sinister_ as ever.

Something he wishes he’d never see on a face so alike his own, his fathers, _Kaito’s_ …

 

_No way, his father didn’t even have a brother! His grandmother had already passed away. His grandfather hadn’t even shown once in his life—he has no uncle._

 

“The hell you are!” he pulls again, only to remain frustratingly in place. But the man tugs, and he nearly falls on his face—if it weren’t for the man’s hand holding him in place, making him dangle quite painfully before the man pushes him slightly back to make eye contact with him.

Blue eyes, like _him_ , like _his dad_ ,

 

But it couldn’t be him, the man is at least years older. Not his dad either, the man only seems to be in his mid-twenties give or take.

 

“Now… I want you to look a bit to your left.” Confused, but with how tight the grip is and that smug smirk that Conan could recognize on his own face when he has successfully trapped a criminal. He couldn’t stop from turning around, not when the man’s voice gained a similar tone as his father’s used to have when he was explaining things about a case to him when he was on his first childhood.

A slight turn to the left, which was only as far as the grip on his arm allowed him to, to the far building and he felt lead weight drop on his stomach, a hitched breath because a _sniper_ is stationed there, clearly meant for Kai— _Kid_.

“You don’t want Uncle’s _friend_ to shoot down the _pretty birdie_ , right?” he whirls around, in time to see the man’s ecstatic face.

 

“You’re not-—wha-you… leave him out of this—this has nothing to do with him!” the man grins, clearly relishing in his horror.

 

“Oh, but it has everything to do with him, dear nephew.” His breath hitches, and he _can’t_ breathe again, not when this man is smiling like that, eyeing past him on _Kid—on Kaito_.

 

“Wha—no! You can’t—” he tries to whirl around, to look if they somehow shot _Kid_ down while he wasn’t looking, dread already clawing through him. As he struggled against the man’s sturdy hold.

 

“Oh, I _can_ , anytime really… even you know, just to name a few, _Ran-neechan… Ayumi-chan…_ ” his breathing hitched again, choking, eyes burning as his mind provided images of them being shot down. The man’s grin turns downright sadistic, his tone condescending a mad psychotic glint in his eyes. “Agasa… Hattori… _Haibara… Kaito._ ”

 

“N-no…” _he can’t breathe, can’t think! He needed to…_

 

“ _Anytime_ … but be glad dear nephew.” The man’s posture suddenly relaxes, almost as if he was soothing him. “That time isn’t now… this is merely… hmm… well, a distraction.” the gun clicks, re-aimed.

 

_What…? What does he mean b—_

 

**_Crack!_ **

 

Loud, slapping loud sound of a gunshot echoed. His vision turned red, then blacking out a bit, before the searing painful white, accompanied by the spreading painful heat from his chest, unable to breathe as blood welled up his throat—only he has no strength to cough it out.

And he drops on the ground, on his front, his head turned to his right—from his attempt to see K _id—_ K _aito_. His vision is now blurry, accompanied by the steady enveloping darkness. He could faintly make out Kid— _Kaito’s_ white blob amidst the night sky and his dimming vision. Strength draining in alarming capacities.

Kid— _Kaito_ made a jerky maneuver, but his eyelids felt too heavy, darkness creeping up to him, pain clouding most of his thoughts to properly pay attention anymore.

 

Breathing hurt, his ears rang as his vision steadily blurred and darkened. Making it seem like Kaito was trying to get closer.

( _That wasn’t possible_ , Kaito said it himself that he _didn’t want anything to do with him._ )

 

_But it was a nice thought anyway._

 

And he welcomes the darkness.

 

**_“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you, Shin’ichi-kun…”_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **((Depending on which (new) fanfic, I’m uploading first:  
> **  
>  I’m back… and worse than ever.
> 
>  
> 
>  **Until the next chapter~ Adieu.  
> **  
>  — DescriptivePessimism-DAA  
> (Yes, formerly DAA[DarkAlchemistAssassin]. I’ll make a note regarding my old fics in my FFN profile… _someday_. When I get around to it, I have no idea whatever shit my younger self concocted in that stupid, timid, naïve brain of hers.)  
> ))  
>   
> (PS: This will be cross-posted in fanfiction.net under the same pen/username.  
> Old fics _may_ or _may **not**_ be cross-posted, who knows.)


	2. I: Orchid's Breaking Vigil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been _months._ Since she and Shin'ichi started officially dating, but how official is their relationship when only one is pulling the straps, and the other is physically absent and more often than not emotionally, too?
> 
> Sometimes, it just becomes too much, all of the accumulated frustrated that's been appeased but unresolve comes surging back.
> 
> And maybe, _maybe_ they aren't really meant to be.
> 
> Maybe it was time to let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Rating: M… duh, I’ll try not to make it MA; generally, but at this moment, it’s still T. (Due to the current proceedings, and based on FFN's rating guides.)  
> **  
>  Character/s: Kudou Shin’ichi | Edogawa Conan, Mouri Ran, Kudou Yukiko, Kudou Yuusaku, Miyano Shiho | Haibara Ai, Agasa Hiroshi.  
> Genres: Angst, Hurt/Comfort.  
> Ship/s: (Deadend)ShinRan
> 
>  
> 
> **Implemented Headcanons: Ran doesn’t wait for Shin’ichi. There is no antidote for APTX.**
> 
>  
> 
> **Warnings:  
> **  
>  I’m the author… when I see a pretty, perfect thing. I wanna keep it… soon enough, I wanna see how it would look tainted with filth, ink, marks, bruises, dents, cracks, holes, and eventually actually breaking damage.
> 
>  
> 
> **I'm petty, what can I say?**
> 
>  
> 
> **Read responsibly.**
> 
>  
> 
> **_Oh_ , and to avoid future confusion, Crimson Arc(Scarlet School Trip, I mean...) did happen, but there was no news outbreak on “Kudou Shin’ichi solving the case” thing, it was dealt with. My edit is that Shin’ichi had worn a hoodie version of his jersey and kept it on-especially when outside. His parents are more involved by monitoring whatever rumors of Shin’ichi being alive coming out and getting rid of those as soon as possible before it can spread.**
> 
>  
> 
> **Also the paragraph after the first ellipses —which serves as a line break (…) ←these cute guys— takes place two weeks after Crimson Arc.**
> 
>  
> 
> **But anyways… as always _enjoy_.)  
> **  
> 

> **| 欄の崩れいている通夜|**

 

_**“This means we’re dating, right?”** _

 

_**“Idiot. Of course, we’re dating.”** _

 

…

 

Ran purses her lips together, brows furrowed, hands clenched around her phone—mindful not to accidentally put too much force on it and break it. Eyeing the time that displayed the time, anxiety and worry building up in her. Pressing her back flat on her bedroom wall, she ignores the stinging prick of tears threatening to well up in her eyes, slightly blurring the texts.

 

_23:56…_

 

Shin’ichi had mailed her that he was involved in a troubling case and not to call. _Again._

 

And he hasn’t retracted that claim for almost a week now.

 

She doesn’t quite stop the high pitched sob, as she buried her face in her arms, knees pulled to her chest.

-

Outside of the room, Conan leans on the wall next to her door, biting his lower lip in guilty frustration.

 

…

 

Months passed since their school trip, and with it went the day she and Shin’ichi officially started dating—as officially it can be, considering how they mostly only kept to minimized phone calls and exchange of messages. Well, until Shin’ichi suddenly told her not to contact him two weeks later. He had mailed her again almost a week and a half after; saying that it was okay to text but not calls—though he couldn’t assure her if he could reply immediately.

She had invited him to another date, even just to catch up with one another. Just to talk to him, personally look at him—get a proper feel of his well-being, without their phones as their communication medium. But of course—

 

_Shin’ichi’s late…_

 

Shivering, she lets out a stuttering breath, the late afternoon’s chill seeping into her winter coat—though she is still dressed lightly as winter hasn’t actually started yet. Looking up at the greyish blue skies, she wipes the beading tears, blinking them back.

She _did_  instigate and invite him to the date, telling him to meet her at a park that she’ll wait for him for an hour—just in case he stumbles on another case on the way. Unwilling to look at her phone for his response—that he hasn’t even sent yet.

Leaning on the post she looks around the near isolated park, enthusiasm already drained.

 

She lets a tear trickle down the side of her face, eyeing as the snow slowly float down from the skies as if crying with her.

 

_It’s been two hours._

 

(She only went home when Conan came to get her with a spare umbrella, a sympathetic and apologetic look on his face. His face was flushed red though—like he too waited outside for someone that didn’t show up, but Shin’ichi not showing up wasn’t his fault.

So, she dries her tears, and smiles at him, asking what he wanted for dinner. Thankful for the boy’s observant kindness that lets the cracking tone in her voice slide.

 

Conan truly is a good boy.)

 

…

 

Ran pulls the coat around her, whether to fight the winter chill or to comfort herself from another failed date—one Shin’ichi didn’t show up for again. She walks down the sidewalk, away from the café—making a mental list of the available ingredients at home and what to cook if Conan and her father haven’t eaten yet.

The faux leather of her shoulder bag made a protesting creak when she tightened her hand around it, only to freeze when she feels a familiar presence step into her space. Looking up, complaints of tardiness, relief, and a bit of frustration ready to explode, only for it to drain away when she didn’t have to tilt her head up as high as she expected.

 

She is briefly ashamed and guilty of herself for being disappointed when Conan greets her with a soft apologetic smile, once again his nose and cheeks reddened from the cold.

And it hits her, Conan had waited with her for Shin’ichi outside of the café.

 

With a grateful smile, she extends her hand for her little brother, someone she can easily console with, to take—walking home together.

 

She doesn’t quite stop the tears the broke free and streamed down her cheeks, a near silent sob escaping her. Conan’s hand tightened around hers.

 

(She cries that night, Conan embracing her and letting her soak his shirt. Patting the back of her head and rubbing her back.

 

She makes it up to him by making his favorite for breakfast the next day. Her father thankfully silent and letting them do as they want without much complaint—if the pat and ruffle on Conan’s head was any indication when he thought she wasn’t looking said he was grateful to Conan too.

 

None of them saw the rueful look on the boy’s face.)

 

…

 

Ran heaves a shuddering—akin to dying (hope)—breath as she flips Shin’ichi’s picture down on the table. Drained and exhausted. She had stayed, kept herself safe and _waited._ But he never came; not for _home,_ not for _school,_ _not for dates_ , _not for her birthday_ , not even when she needed him— _appeasing gifts_ , _peace offerings_ and _phone calls_ hardly count. _Not_ when she doesn’t know what he’s _actually_ doing, how he’s doing.

If he’s eating right, sleeping well, safe or injured. _Is he sick? In a hospital?_ Out with his new friends?

 

It was always cases—only they’re a passing remark, no details or ramblings as to what happened; one he used to do, and she never knows what happened to them. What happened to him. He never tells her anything these days, just telling her not to worry, when she can call—when she shouldn’t, awfully secretive.

Now, Sonoko’s teasing of future husband concepts makes her uneasy, uncertain and anxious. Her teasing of affairs doesn’t even make her feel embarrassed, just a light jab or feel certain because she knows Shin’ichi doesn’t really pay any mind to others. Acknowledges beauty, _yes,_ but he never makes a move. She had always held a special place in his heart.

—But he has _changed._

 

It was slow, but surely it happened. She finally noticed how much he changed since his absence.

 

_She misses him…_

 

She’s worried, anxious, tired, and _frustrated._ She had last seen him since their trip to Kyoto—and they weren’t even remotely alone then. Not to mention he disappeared without even a proper goodbye and in the middle of their talk no less, _for another case_.

 

That was the only thing he could apparently think of these days.

 

No time for home, no time for school, no time for _Ran._

 

And the ugly jealousy has reared its head, and she has been waiting for far too long that they are even in their third year already. The teachers had told her that due to certain circumstances, Shin’ichi had switched to the home-school program of their system as arranged by his parents.

She had called them, worried if something serious had happened; for Shin’ichi to not be able to take their normal classes—even worse than traveling and busy with cases, because they were also requested again to keep it quiet. Only to be told that Shin’ichi’s the only one with the right to tell her.

 

Shin’ichi who hasn’t even talked about himself, always just asking for her, but never about him. The exact opposite of what used to happen.

 

Shin’ichi had been so damn secretive lately—she didn’t even know what was going through his head anymore. Even _Conan_ and _Hattori_ know him better, somehow, people they just met and—

 _She couldn’t think like that_ she _cannot_ paint them in a bad way, just because she’s jealous that Shin’ichi has found some new friends. (Not to mention that he must have made a lot of them on these strings of cases, and she doesn’t even know if he likes some of them or not.)

n a sense Hattori and Shin’ichi were like brothers when it comes to their passion, and Conan-kun, sweet, little intelligent Conan-kun has always been the sweet little brother that looks up to the jerk that is Shin’ichi.

 

A hitched breath, a choked sob and she felt herself drop, knees buckling unable to hold herself up anymore. Because, this relationship, _whatever this is_ with Shin’ichi is _unhealthy._

It is now hitting her just how much had changed between them. Seen how, despite the obvious fond and warmth Shin’ichi has when he talks to her on the phone, it held a certain tone that made her heart sink. Seeing a pair of twins interact the exact same way she and Shin’ichi did was the final hammer in the nail.

_Shin’ichi didn’t actually see her as a lover. He saw her as a family, a sister that he would spoil beyond belief. And he still loves her…_

 

_But…_

 

But, why do Hattori and Conan seem closer to him these days? She was here first! Especially if Shin’ichi saw her as a sister—even if he doesn’t know it, he should at least tell her, whatever it is that he told Hattori. Or talk to her as frequently, because Hattori knows him better, talks frequently with him—and likely meet up with him—these days.

 

When she doesn’t even see much of him these days, in fact, she hasn’t even seen him for half a year now.

 

With a cut off sob and a couple of shuddering breathes, she pulls her phone out—a gift from Shin’ichi. She’ll ask Sonoko to buy her a new one, she’ll pay her back… she just doesn’t think she can look at the phone without thinking of him. But for now…

_This is it… this will be the last call…_

 

A few presses on the buttons and the caller is dialing.

 

_Until she personally sees him again, constantly after a while… until then, she doesn’t think she can—_

 

_A click and the call goes through…_

 

 _“Ran? What is it?”_ Shin’ichi answers, and she nearly cries right then and there, because she hasn’t heard his voice in months. Because he had just gotten off a hard case that _—or so he says,_ so before she could back herself out of it. She wills herself to speak.

_“Ran?”_

 

“Shi-Shin’ichi…” she breathes, and she can’t stop the hitched sob either and reprimands herself for it. Her eyes sting, with a familiar burn that she has been feeling lately.

 

 _“Ran? What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did someone hurt you—”_ he sounds alarmed, and she is ashamed at the pleased feeling that warms through her at his concern because she is still important for him to be this worried. But she shoves that off for now.

 

“I-I…”

 

_“Ran?”_

 

“I can’t do this anymore…” _“_

 

_Ran… what do you—”_

 

“I can’t… you’re never there anymore.”

 

 _“What… Ran I—”_ and he cuts himself off, audibly choking. But she speaks—she had envisioned herself yelling, venting, but her voice is surprisingly soft, cracking.

 

“You aren’t even going to school, I heard. Yukiko-san and Yuusaku-san told me to ask you, but you aren’t even going to tell me anything, are you?”

 

_“Ran…”_

 

“Don’t lie to me… you haven’t been telling me anything as of late. Always case this, case that… just how stupid do you think I am? It can’t be that hard, can it? Cases don’t happen one after another, is there another reason why you can’t return?”

 

_“I…”_

 

“There is, isn’t there?! But you’re not going to tell me, anyway.”

 

_“…”_

 

“I can’t do this anymore… I’m sorry… but, if you had gone earlier I would’ve told you personally. We could have talked it over, but… I’m sorry. I don’t think this is going to work out between us.”

 

_“I’m sorry too…”_

 

“Do you even have a case at all?”

 

 _“Ran,"_   he breathes,  _"I swear. If I could, I would come back to you. You know that, right?”_ Ran nearly laughs hysterically, because Shin’ichi had always been a bad liar, he hadn’t lied, but he hadn’t answered her question either.

 

_God, she misses him…_

 

_(And she wants to believe him too, and maybe someday she will, but she can’t, not right now.)_

 

“No… Shin’ichi… we’re over. I’m sorry, but this isn’t healthy. For both of us. I can’t…”

 

_“Ran… I… Okay. I’m sorry.”_

 

“We’re still friends, Shin’ichi… just not yet, okay? I’m afraid, I’ll try to hit you if you show up now… just… until I’m _okay,_ okay?”

 

 _“Yeah… I’m really sorry, Ran. It’s not you, it’s not your fault.”_ Ran can’t stop the fond smile that grew on her face. Trust Shin’ichi to comfort her, even when she’s the one hurting him, breaking up with him.

 

“Yeah…” and she wonders if Shin’ichi would be okay if she pursued other relationships.

 

 _“Ra-Ran? If-if… you want to date someone else if you find someone who can make you truly happy… you can, I won’t stop you. Just make sure they won’t hurt you like I did?”_ as expected of the Detective Geek, some things just doesn’t change.

( _But he did_ , she _did.)_

 

“Yeah… I will… thank you… I feel the same way you know that right?” she highly doubts he believes that though. But he’s a genius, he’ll figure it out—when he finds someone else...

 

_“R-right…”_

 

“Bye…”

 

_“Take care of yourself, Ran.”_

 

“You too, Shin’ichi.” she’s the one to hang up because it was taking him too long to do so, she’s not willing to let him hear her crying.

For once, she is glad that Conan stayed over the Professor’s, her dad downstairs in the agency still watching Yōko, because she doesn’t think she can handle it if she faces one of them right now. Especially, _Conan-kun_ , a splitting image of Shin’ichi.

 

Right now, she’s a mess, puffy and red-eyed, judging from the sore swollen feeling around her eyes, and the tears streaming down her cheeks. High pitched sobs tearing itself out of her mouth, feeling as if she’d just wrung her heart out, but at the same time, it also felt as if a heavy weight just lifted itself off her shoulders. Right now, she can’t face them.

 

But tomorrow, tomorrow, she will greet Conan with a smile, her father with an exasperated, fond glare—a hidden amused smile as he complains of a headache. Greet them with a meal she just cooked. Greet the world with a new, freer Mouri Ran, ready for the future.

But until then, for now, she’ll grieve for the loss of a lover, wait for the return of her absentee childhood friend and brother.

And when she’s over it, she’ll try and properly move on, pursue a serious relationship.

 

Until then, she’ll cry her heart out.

 

And hopes that Shin’ichi—knowing him—could vent it out to his heart’s content.

 

…

 

Conan had already seen this coming, he had expected it—and he knew he couldn’t let it happen when he was in the same household as her. Not only would Ran not make a move, but he doubts he could keep still, without doing anything. Right now, he just wanted to kick soccer balls, pulverized something (preferably someone named; Kudou Shin’ichi), get it out of his system without trying to scream.

So, he ignores the frozen stature of his parents, of Haibara and the Professor around the corner.

 

“Shin-chan…”

 

“I’m fine.” He says immediately because if his mother were to speak right now, he doesn’t think he can hold it in anymore. “I’m fine…” he says again, and he’s not sure who he’s trying to convince here.

He hears his father take a step forward, including Haibara—both about to speak, but he _can’t,_ because _they don’t_ — _wouldn’t understand this_ , _not yet… and he wishes, not ever_.

“Don’t… I’ll be fine.” He says again, looking at them, and he could see their torn, concerned faces.

 

_It’s overwhelming._

 

So he turns on his heel and rushes to the front door, toeing in his high-powered shoes.

 

“Kudou-kun!” Haibara chokes out, voice high pitched; worried and laced with guilt. And he feels rising within him, part of him wanting to hiss, sneer—to blame her, but he squashes the thought. Because it wasn’t her that told him to chase after Gin and Vodka on that day, it wasn’t her fault that he followed them and let his guard down. She may have created the drug, but it wasn’t her that fed it to him.

It wasn’t her that lied to Ran, it’s not even the Professor’s fault.

 

It’s his.

 

Like Ran had always warned him of, he got it way over his head.

 

“Shin’ichi!” his father calls him, but he kicks into the shoes, and hurriedly grabs his skateboard, wallet, and he’s rushing to grab the knob. Turning it.

 

“I’ll be right back.” he manages to say without a crack in his tone, and he’s swinging the door open, sprinting for the gate, dropping the skateboard on the ground as soon as he got it open. He ignores his family’s calls, getting on and stepping on the switch to speed off, and away from the residence.

He needed a place of silence. Away from here. A place where he could break, where there wouldn’t be anyone to inconvenience him nor him them.

He feels his eyes burn and he convinces himself it’s because of the harsh, cold night wind that slapped on his face and eyes. Ignoring the fact that his vision blurred on the edges.

 

Knowing that it would be too dangerous, especially if he runs into a speeding vehicle, he makes a few turns for a park he knew would be isolated at this time, a park Beikan’s rarely go to. Because it was quite out there; near the train tracks and border separating Beika and Ekoda.

Entering the silent park—only surrounded by closed business offices, he shudders—remembering that he hadn’t grabbed his coat, but ignores that in favor of eyeing the tall trees, dispensing a soccer ball, with a sharp exhale and yell, he kicks it as hard as he could to a tree. (Thankful that the Professor had extended its inflated duration.)

Satisfaction filling his nerves at the answering thump and echo of the ball hitting a solid surface. It bounces off the ground and back towards him, and he kicks it again, as hard as he could back to the tree.

And again, and again, _and again_.

 

It deflates after a few minutes, and he dispenses another ball again, kicking it, again and again. Over and over.

 

Rinse and repeat.

 

He had lost count by then, adrenaline keeping him warm enough—though the outside of his skin still felt cool, almost like burning ice, but he heaves a sigh. He was about to kick the ball again, glaring at the tree—

 

**_“What are you doing out here this late, Tantei-kun?”_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **(Want a confession? I already had this chapter pre-prepared.  
> **  
>  As I said, I’m worse than ever.  
> There are purposely vague bits, and well, some loopholes, but I’m looking forward to how you guys will receive that.
> 
>  
> 
> **Until the next chapter~ Adieu.  
> **  
>  — DescriptivePessimism-DAA)
> 
>  
> 
> _PS. If you do find any mistakes, be it spelling, or grammar errors, please do point it out._


	3. II: Blue's Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He was an idiot._  
>  But he's _her_ idiot. Her wonderful childhood friend and first love. she had always thought like most of the others that they would be together. Much like those romantic films she's so fond of.
> 
> But not every love story ends happily.
> 
> And her fairy tale is not a happily ever after, no matter how hard she tries to change it.
> 
> So, maybe. _Maybe_ , they aren't meant to be after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Category: Fanfiction [duh…]  
> **  
>  Rating: M… at the moment it’s still T.  
> Character/s: Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid, Nakamori Aoko, Hakuba Saguru, Koizumi Akako, Kudou Shin’ichi | Edogawa Conan.  
> Genres: Angst, Hurt/Comfort.  
> Ship/s: (Deadend)KaiAo
> 
>  
> 
> **Implemented Headcanons: Ran doesn’t wait for Shin’ichi, nor does Aoko. Hakuba is Kaito’s best friend. Shin’ichi is too kind.**
> 
>  
> 
> **Warnings:  
> **  
>  I’m the author… (ꞇ_ꞇ ) ح ( ד_ד)
> 
>  
> 
> **Read responsibly.**
> 
>  
> 
> **Anyways… as always _enjoy_.)**

> **_\_ 青のアイス _\_ **

 

_‘_ _Happy Birthday, Aoko.’_

_“This display is my present to you.”_

 

…

 

Aoko steals a glance at her childhood friend—once again, he was grinning like a maniac as he scrolled through his tablet _during_ class hours. He hasn’t set off a prank for now, but that only set other people on edge as they are left anticipating when he would finally snap and go prank-happy.

Even though they have moved up a year, Kaito’s antics haven’t really changed—well, she really can’t stake claim to that with full confidence. Because _he did_ change.

He now has some sort of late night job that she has no idea about—asking his mother was like asking a stubborn mule, that only kept telling her cryptic phrases and sometimes just telling her that it was her childhood friend’s way of growing up.

Looking at him now, she could see that while most of his actions hadn’t changed, _he did_ grow up. It stood out in how he spoke, though he didn’t do anything that made it blatant—but, it was the tone of his voice.

 

His eyes had gotten sharper, more observant, calculative—and with it, _secretive_. _Closed-off_. Even to her.

She’d seen him without it when they grew up, and only noticed it there when it was already there. An invisible wall keeping them apart, and she’s seen it partly lowered for Akako—as if the other girl knew whatever it was he's been keeping a secret.

And it was half lowered for _Hakuba_.

 

His pranks got more elaborate, tiny details fixed, simpler, contained—and fewer mistakes. And in each improvement, tricks better than the last. She couldn’t help but feel like he was getting farther, and farther from her reach. He used to ramble and tell her all about, but ever since her birthday, he had stopped such antics.

School days after seasonal breaks or week-off holidays were the worst, because the improvements were so drastic, it was as if the rift between just got wider. She had been confident that as childhood friends, she stood a chance if she’ll confess to him one day, he would return her affections, but with the recent developments, she wasn’t so sure anymore.

She had given multiple opportunities, see what he would do, but they were left unanswered. Whether he was surprisingly dense to them or he chose to ignore them. She didn’t know, and she’s not sure which she’d prefer either.

 

So, when he paid attention to her—sprayed her with blue ribbons, glitter and gave her blue highlights. A personalized prank (ones he had been using on Hakuba as of late), she shoved the thoughts off with a laugh. It must have been her imagination.

 

On their way home, they spent less chase, more peaceful ambiance—as if Kaito was relishing in the peaceful silent air. At first, she had gotten the same sentiment, grateful for the—for once—quiet, but when _it_ started becoming the routine, worried her.

He hadn’t even teased her for being too boyish, for being _not a girl_ , or flipped her skirt. Peeked in the girl’s changing room ( _not that she’s encouraging those, of course. Those were borderline criminal acts!_ ).

Outwardly, his interactions with her don’t seem like it had changed, but _something_ did.

 

That is why when Keiko took her to the side, making a confused Kaito head home first—with a promise that he could hog her later since they live next to each other, much to the embarrassment—her fantasies of a family with Kaito, _the idiot_ , shattered with Keiko’s next words.

 

“So, are you two finally officially dating? When did it happen?”

 

“What?” was all she could say because _they did nothing of sort_. Keiko was still beaming, an invasive, sly smile on her lips.

 

“There you go, holding back on me again! Like that Costume Skiing Contest we did last year, with you as a Princess and him your own Kaitou Kid!” _Aoko actually has mixed feelings about that, because while it made it seem like Kaito was subtly and in a roundabout way confessing and proposing to her at that time, he did it with a_ Kaitou Kid _costume, of all things._

“That was practically a love confession!” Keiko exclaims, enthusiasm akin to a raging volcano. Then she makes a weird swooning noise, amplified with a bodily sway. “… aaaaaaand a proposal for the future perhaps?” Keiko winks and makes a suggestive look at her. And Aoko couldn’t help but think that maybe, Keiko should have joined the drama club instead of the literature club.

 

“Um, me and Kaito? We aren’t… to be honest.” Aoko is surprised at how weak her voice just sounded just then. Keiko blinks, apparently bewildered, and also confused whether or not to believe her. “Why would you even ask that?”

 

“Well, Kuroba-kun hasn’t been pranking you lately, like personal pranks—like he does with Hakuba-kun. And we thought you guys made it official since our summer break.”

 

“What? Why would you guys think that?”

 

“Because Kuroba-kun’s version of personalized pranks is like pulling pigtails to you… we honestly thought you guys had officially dated when they stopped.”

 

Those words, Aoko realizes were right. And her fears came back.

 

 _Maybe…  Kaito wasn’t romantically interested in her after all_.

 

…

 

Aoko wouldn’t give up that easily though, she would do whatever it takes to get her Kaito to return her affections. Or at least get a confession out of him. So, when the opportunity of another mindless banter they shared, she drops the invitation.

People like to correct other people, right?

 

“Stupid Kaito! It’s like you don’t even love Aoko anymore.” And it doesn’t even take much for her to pretend to be downhearted by the claim, because they have been becoming distanced—and any reminder of that had served to lower her spirits. Saying it out loud, no matter how little it was implied, makes it feel official; it makes a painful twinge in her chest.

 

“O-of course not! I like Aoko well enough!” and that is heartwarming.

 

“R-really?” she stares, hopeful as a light embarrassed flush works its way on Kaito’s cheeks.

 

“O-of co-ourse. We’re childhood friends, practically grew up together. If I didn’t remotely like you, I wouldn’t have stuck up with you as a best friend, Ahouko.”

 

—and of course, the idiot just has to squash that hope.

-

Kaito sighs, barely dodging the metaphorical bullet Aoko has yet again sent his way.

 

He does love her in the way she thinks… _only, they won’t work out_. Not since _Kid_.

 

…

 

Aoko huffs, Kaito may have avoided the opportunity—but she wasn’t giving up. Any subtlety she tried had not worked, so it was time to hitch up the ante, she decided.

Of everyone, she knew just how possessive her childhood friend tends to be at both the worse and best of times. So, of course, it would only be logical that her next plan to hatch would be to make him jealous.

So, during their outings, she starts gushing about good-looking celebrities—only, it didn’t work, because Kaito knew her enough to know that her attention was faked. (Asking whether or not she was feeling well—which just tempted her to sock his face with a brick.)

 

Those that she does truly like gets shrugged off—because unfortunately, she genuinely likes those who are way older, not her type for a future husband, or taken. So, she is hit with an abrupt inspiration during club activities, a club mate that has been so sweet, and nice—one who complimented her at every turn and was akin to the boys that followed Akako around, only he is like that to _Aoko_.

So, she befriends him—she removes the metaphorical distance she set; because she had always had her eyes on Kaito. And maybe, if Kaito sees that Sugawa-kun is actually interested in her, he would realize it. Stake his claim, like the hotheaded possessive boy he is and drag her away.

 

She was certain this would work.

-

_Only it didn’t._

 

 _“Oh, who’s this? A new friend, I didn’t know you had it in you, Ahouko~”_ she nearly lugged her school bag at his face, because _he still didn’t get it_. He simply teased her for a bit, but there wasn’t much context.

But instead of blowing up on him, she tries to properly befriend Sugawa. It was quite a bit mean of her to manipulate him, even on spur of moment.

 

They were in the same club, after all, they were bound to have similar interests.

 

(They did.)

 

…

 

Kaito sighs quietly, looking at his childhood friend’s retreating back as she hangs out once again with her club mate—Sugawa Hideo. When she’d introduced them to one another he had to clamp his mouth shut, laughing through gritted teeth as he teased her to cover up the ugly, searing jealous heat that welled up in him.

He shoves that deep, _deep_ down. Practically trying to strangulate himself with the feigned mask that he metaphysically slammed on his face.

And he inwardly venomously hissed and sneered at the teen that Aoko is getting to know, while a sadder more resigned part of him knew this was coming. Since Kid came up to be one of his responsibility, he consciously realized it after that incident with the men that used to hire his mother.

 

He couldn't let Aoko be involved. Or anyone else for that matter. (Anyone else that didn't already know.)

-

A warning from Koizumi, this heist would be dangerous is what had been implied. But he had already issued a heist notice, Tantei-kun was busy elsewhere, so was Hakuba. It was perfect because none of them would be dragged into his mess.

The police wouldn't be targeted as long as he maintains their distance.

 

Then he is grazed by a bullet as he made his escape. His glider falling down into a bunch of trees, hitting branches left and right, temporarily stunned and winded as he finally collided on the ground below.

He wheezed ignoring how most of his muscles flared and burned in pain, trying to get up despite his body's protests. Knowing that if he didn't he'd literally be a sitting duck for those guys to find, a shining _white_ beacon in the night.

He stills hearing the rustling of the bushes, a pair of rushing feet scourging through the darkness. Hissing a nearly inaudible curse, he tries to get up and rush away, but of course, his knees buckled under his weight.

 

Armed with nothing but a card gun with sharp edges, he aims—because even if it only gives cuts and can dig through skin he still doesn’t to kill someone. Someone breaks through the groups of bushes in front of him and he nearly fires, until he realizes he’s looking at _Hakuba_. And he promptly freezes.

 

The other teen glares at his rumpled and raggedy state, clearly mentally cataloging his findings, and almost unexpectedly, Hakuba just grunts pulling out a dark colored sheet and covering his clothing.

“They’re likely following the false trail I managed to produce in such short notice, but we don’t have long. Do you have a spare suit there, or a disguise, or something, Kuroba?” Kaito really couldn’t be faulted for just gaping at his friend, but a hiss and snarl from the blonde got him moving.

 

(And that was just the beginning of the changes in his and Hakuba’s relationship. With Hakuba actively abetting.

 

Working out some kinks of his plan even—even if Jii was short of reluctant to let the blonde join in. Who convinced the old man, and Kaito completely to let him join in when he mentioned his findings on the weird anomalies in heists

Ones Kaito knew would paint a target on the blonde’s back if he were to start investigating by himself.)

 

…

 

A few weeks later and another heist notice prepared but not yet sent, he finds himself confused when Aoko simply huffs and sneers under her breath, before calming down. He’d expected her to have a more colorful reaction, so he’s decidedly disappointed when she mellows out. When Aoko glances at him akin to a pained, desperate look—he nearly bodily flinches back, wondering and scampering through his memories to see if he’d screwed up somewhere and accidentally revealed to her that he was Kid, _somehow_.

But he didn’t have to venture long, because Aoko pulls him to the back of the school—squawking and utterly confused—and he wishes he was anywhere but here at this moment.

 

“Kaito… Aoko— _I_ , dragged your idiotic butt out here because Ao— _I_ have a confession to make.” While it sent his heart racing, it also made it stop and sink. Torn between relief and panic, he wanted to hear her out, but at the same time, he didn’t want to be here. Because hearing it out would solidify it, he’d had to reject her and risk being a jerk and ruining their friendship.

He didn’t want to be here, but he didn’t want to ditch her. But apparently, the latter indecision won, because he couldn’t move, even if he wanted to. (But he tries to anyway, _trying_ to convince himself to _move_.)

 

“Aoko… I—”

 

“No, _Kaito_ , hear me out. Please?” the tone of her voice alone sent all of his protesting nerves to die out in resignation. And he nearly couldn’t look back at her, knowing how the pained look would reflect on both her eyes and face as bad as it has been conveyed by her voice.

 

“Aoko… okay… I’m listening.” he says, but he actually wishes he wasn’t. Aoko smiles at him so hopeful, yet so sadly disappointed that it physically pained him to have put such expression on her face, but he was careful enough to not let it show on his face.

_After all, one mustn’t forget his Poker Face._

“I like you…”

-

He hisses, nearly sneers, tempted to tear down the Kid Cave, move on. But he stops just as he enters his room, the energy that made him explosively slam the door open drained away at the sight of the innocent side of his father’s portrait in his room. So, he slumps down, leaning on the door, feeling exhausted.

With tired pleading eyes, he looks up at his father’s portrait and he sighs.

 

“Just what would you do in this situation, Oyaji?”

 

…

 

Kaito grumbles, kicking on the ground as he walked around the cool silent empty streets, aside from the occasional late-goers. Hakuba had confiscated his glider contraption, apparently worried that he might vent via hand gliding. And ultimately injure himself, so he scoffs. Mentally insulted at the notion _because he was Kaitou Kid_ , for crying out loud!

Just because Hakuba didn’t like his obligatory night job, doesn’t mean he actually had the choice to stop it! At least he had fans that utterly adored and supported him, even if they didn’t know his actual motives. Quite depressing when you think about it that way, but also comforting in a sense.

 

 _“I like you…”_ he freezes, hearing a mental echo of his childhood friend’s confession earlier. Feeling a chill going down his spine, he shudders it off and starts walking again. Silently stomping on the ground like a petulant spoiled child that didn’t get the things to go his way.

 

 _“We have been childhood friends since we met that day in front of the clock tower…”_ every memory of every line spoken from his childhood friend’s lip made him instinctively urge his legs to move faster.

_“And I have always liked you…”_

He feels an ever familiar sting in his eyes, so he stubbornly blinks them back, willing them away.

 

 _“But I don’t think you feel the same way...”_ and he nearly screams, because _she had no idea that he_ did. He wanted to hold her, make her smile, tell her that she’s the most precious being in existence that he has ever met.

 _But he cannot_ , he has a job to do. _He had to let her go_.

 

After all, foundations built on lies were shaky at best, completely unstable and brittle at worse.

 

 _So let her go_ , and he does.

 

 _“Sugawa-kun confessed to me…”_ glaring at nothing he’s sorely tempted to punch, _to hurt something_. But knowing how unwise that would be, he moves along, footsteps quicker in motion, as if speeding away would silence the voice his excellent memory had recorded.

Wanting it to stop, to _shut up! He didn’t need this!_

_“I think I’m going to—”_

**_Thump!_ **

And they stopped when he hears a familiar noise.

 

_Thunk! Thump!_

 

It takes him a few seconds to identify why the noise was so familiar—when he finally notes that it’s the sound of a ball being kicked over and over, to a tree or something equally sturdy. Quite strongly too. Then he hears the grunting, concealed by the soft wind’s calls, and the near-silent breathless pants.

Curiosity perked, and quite grateful for the distraction, he moves towards the source.

 

Only to feel his heart leap up to his throat, mind and red alarms blaring in his head when his eyes land on the ever familiar form of the tiny detective. He, however, ignores his screaming thief instincts, slapping on a quick simple disguise, to not be identified immediately as Kuroba Kaito, but recognizable as Kid.

When he sees the look on the detective’s face, the alarms in his head quietens, and against his better judgment, he approaches and speaks.

 

**_“What are you doing out here this late, Tantei-kun?”_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **(Want _another_ confession? I _also_ already had this chapter pre-prepared. (Well, barely.) **
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **But thank you for the Kudos, minna~**
> 
>  
> 
> **(Also, how does Bookmarks work? Do they notify you or something if it’s been updated?)**
> 
>  
> 
> **Until the next chapter~ Adieu.  
> **  
>  — DescriptivePessimism-DAA)  
> 


	4. III: Once Again, Pleased to Meet You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uncanny unexpected friendships, but maybe that's what they just need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **(Rating:** M.  
>  **Character/s:** Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid, Kudou Shin’ichi | Edogawa Conan, Black Organization.  
>  **Genres:** Angst, Hurt/Comfort.  
>  **Ship/s:** (Deadend)KaiAo, ShinRan. Pre-KidCon (Because Kid doesn’t tell Conan he’s Kaito, and Conan doesn’t tell Kid he’s Shin’ichi. DUH. But it’s still a mutual truce-friendship at this point, don’t worry too much.)
> 
>  **Implemented Headcanons:** Ran doesn’t wait for Shin’ichi, nor does Aoko. Hakuba is Kaito’s best friend. Shin’ichi is _really_ too kind. Honest and Omitting; How to. How two boys try to be honest and keep their secrets. Conan is an adorable kid.  
> Rebounds yet not.
> 
>  
> 
> **Warnings:**  
>  **I’m the author… (ꞇ_ꞇ ) ح ( ד_ד)**
> 
>  
> 
>  _OH_! And before anyone points it out, as I’ve mentioned in the implemented headcanons way back in the _**Prologue**_ beginning notes. Kaito _DOES NOT_ know Conan is Shin’ichi. Meaning, no The Last Wizard of the Century reveals, nor the Lost Air Ship reveal. Just the reveal parts that had Conan admitting to Kid that he is Shin’ichi that is.  
> Is’all!
> 
>  
> 
> **Read responsibly.**
> 
>  
> 
> **Anyways… as always _enjoy_.)**

 

 

> **|** **改めて、よろしく。|**

**_“What are you doing out here this late, Tantei-kun?”_ **

 

…

 

It was rather comical how the boy whirled around, eyes wide in both surprise and slight panic. Missing the next kick, nearly tripping over it and falling flat on his face, had Kaito not stepped in at last moment to catch the flailing mini-detective.

 

“Whoa! Careful now.” Kaito lets a smile crawl on his face when the boy splutters, face red both from his sport, embarrassment and likely the cold night—which Kaito notes with concern that the boy is rather dressed too lightly for such weather that he’s risking a fever and pneumonia at this rate.

And from what he checked in the boy’s background; he was prone to colds and illness due to his shaky immune system. Rather ironic considering how athletic and healthy the boy usually is, not to mention his tendency to get into trouble a lot.

 

“Ki-Kid! What are you doing here?” the boy immediately asks, looking around him and taking note of the obvious lack of the pristine white suit, and of course knowing the little detective he’s already checking his mind for any heist announcements. One Kaito knows there isn’t any, because he hasn’t sent it yet, no thanks to the distraction Aoko pulled earlier.

“You don’t have a heist scheduled…” the boy adds, clearly confused, so Kaito beams at the boy.

 

“No, I don’t~ Not yet at least.” Kaito nearly snorts when the boy’s face scrunches up in confusion.

 

“What are you doing here then?”

 

“Oh~ How rude, can’t a phantom thief walk around the place when he’s not on the job?”

 

"What job?” he inwardly snorts at the dry retort, making a show of ignoring that as if he hadn’t been interrupted.

 

“Anyways I was just walking around, minding my own business~” well, at least he was. But of course, being a detective, Conan doesn’t immediately believe him.

 

“Did you follow me here? If you were worried, I can handle myself.” says the kid he had to save more than a handful of times—not that he actually minds. He’d do it over and over, as long as it kept his favorite critic alive. Though he’d prefer if the kid stayed away from danger, that wouldn’t be fair the little detective though—that was just how Tantei-kun is. (Also, he’d be a hypocrite, being a mobile bait himself.)

Plus, when they do work together, they work like gears on oil, unlike his and Hakuba’s awkward and slightly edgy patchwork of teamwork—not that he’d get rid of the Brit.

The blonde has his good sides too, not that he would ever admit that to the teen out loud.

 

“Oh, don’t be so full of yourself, kid.” he blinks, intrigued why the boy twitches, he decides not to comment on it. “Shouldn’t your neechan be worried? It’s late.” Kaito blinks, noting the myriad of troubling emotions flickering in the boy’s eyes.

The boy glares at him.

 

“Well, that isn’t really your business now, is it? Just leave me alone, Kid.” Kaito stares, seeing the brief devastated and _lost_ look in the boy’s eyes as Conan turns away from him. Kaito wonders if it involved the boy’s pseudo-older sister, but he’d seen how the boy had consistently capitalized on the karateka’s safety, showing an intensive amount of care for the girl, so that couldn’t be it.

Conan moves and Kaito couldn’t stop the minute tense of his muscles when the little detective dispenses one of his iconic rubber balls and started kicking it as if no one had disturbed his venting fest.

And Kaito relaxed, the ever familiar noise of the ball of doom being kicked to a tree distracting him enough to _not_ think of his and Aoko’s discussion. So, he quietly settles himself on the nearest bench, keeping an eye on the equally distraught boy.

Keeping mind of the child’s state; the color of his skin and his overall repetitive motions. When the boy started to slowly but steadily lag down—almost two hours later. Kaito stands up, knowing that it couldn’t be healthy for a kid as small as Tantei-kun, no matter how resilient the boy is.

 

“I think that’s enough?” he presses a palm on the boy’s lowered shoulder, feeling it tense under his grip, but eventually relaxed a bit.

 

“Why are you still here, don’t you have venues to scout? Jewels to check for your next heist?” Kaito notes the most apparent bitter tone in the boy’s voice. So, he sighs, because he really wasn’t up to the mind-games, as fun as their wit-banter tends to be. And he can tell that the boy didn’t want to deal with those too.

 

“I already have a heist in mind, complete with a note.” Kaito nearly grins widely when the boy’s head and skeptical gaze snaps to him, despite the slight exhaustion in his figure, the boy’s eyes were still sharp. The moon behind him making it seem like they’re ethereally glowing.

He chuckles when the boy’s face scrunches in confusion clearly wondering why he was still here. “I don’t really have anything in mind… just wanted to get away for a bit, you know?” he tries; keeping his Poker Face in check while he scans Tantei-kun’s mask creak from the corner of his eyes.

This confirms his long suspicion that Tantei-kun isn’t really who he says he is. But he can hardly pry when he won’t return the sentiment. While it said something _tremendously detestable_ in the situation, he was just glad that he wasn’t alone in this whole double life that he is going through. While both Akako and Hakuba did know and empathized, even supported him—it was just another thing entirely to have someone _understand_ him.

 

“Something happened to your civilian life?” the boy asks offhandedly, equally wry but sympathetic.

 

“Yeah…” a few emotions flicker on the boy’s face before he sighs equally as heavy as the teen just did.

 

“You want to talk about it?” Kaito wonders what the boy is getting at, he has his suspicions but he isn’t sure if— “Of course, you don’t have to get too specific in who’s who, just you know… the generalization of it all.” Kaito couldn’t stop the inelegant snort unbecoming of Kid, amused at how the boy flailed and spluttered.

 

“Don’t worry, I get it…”  he smiles when the boy finally _fully_ relaxes. But with the draining of his adrenaline, the boy shivers the cold most likely finally getting to him. “Why don’t we take this someplace else?” and he doesn’t bother stopping the snort that answers the boy’s tired apprehension.

“I know a café open at this time. It’s getting cold, we don’t want you getting sick now, do we?” seeing that the boy wasn’t fully convinced but _considering_ , he added another bait. “Plus, I heard they serve great coffee.”

He nearly laughs when the boy’s head perks up expression akin to a dog that just heard his favorite toy squeak. But held by someone he didn’t like and was having second thoughts on whether to accept the offering or not.

“So, would you mind giving this wandering phantom company? I swear I won’t pry if you don’t want me to, I just ask of you to do the same.” Kaito watches, an uneasy smile on the inside at the boy’s contemplating face. Conan huffs turning around—that didn’t help his heart rate, because he really doesn’t want to be alone tonight—but the boy merely crouches into the bushes retrieving his powered skateboard that was disguised well with the background, tucking that under his arm.

 

“I— _Okay_.”

 

“Okay?” Kaito prompts with an amused brow, making the detective make an adorable not-quite scowl on his face as he glares at him.

 

“I’ll keep you company, but I’m only in for the coffee.” the boy outstretches his hand so suddenly yet expectantly that it took Kaito a few seconds of staring at the boy’s _‘Well, what are you waiting for?’_ look to understand. If he started laughing while wrapping his hand around the boy’s smaller and cold one, he wasn’t about to tell anyone else.

Not when it got Tantei-kun flushing a cute red from the top of his head and down to his neck—and Kaito wonders if the boy could blush up to his chest—spluttering reasons as to why he wanted to hold hands with a thief—who by the way, is ungloved. Each of them, sharing their body heat through close proximity and their hands.

-

As promised, Kaito takes the detective to a quaint little café, soft pastel colors on the walls, a contrasting dark carpeted floor. The heating greeting them upon entry, and they chose the set of seats that would give them a sense of privacy, out of earshot. He smiles, laughing inside, at how the boy adorably melts and relaxes into the cushion seat.

A clearly dozing and bored out of her mind waitress hands them the menu, before she goes to one of the few customers that just called for her across the room. Kaito doesn’t bother grabbing the menu already knowing what he wanted, while the boy across him gingerly, almost groggily takes a look at the menu, pulling it closer to him with sluggish movements—dragging it across the table.

A spacey look in his eyes and face as he lazily reads the menu, his lips slightly parted in apparent boredom.

 

When it looked like the boy was about to fall asleep right there and then, Kaito snickers.

“Found anything you like yet?” his voice seemed to be the key that broke the boy’s trance-like state, because he snaps up, face flushing and Kaito wonders if it’s really that easy to fluster the little devil. It was most likely due to the atmosphere. (Unbeknownst to him, when he had asked that particular question, his tone of voice had dropped into slightly low octave that made him sound like a worried affectionate lover. And well, Conan had nearly been dozing off in the thief’s presence which says something on how he actually sees the thief.)

 

The boy shakes his head rapidly as if it would help him wave the blood rushing to his head away, staring intently down at the menu when he started feeling the signs of dizziness. Knowing that Kid would be smirking amusedly at him.

Conan scans the menu again, now seeing the print in place unlike the tango-dance they seem to have been doing earlier. He was sold the moment he read two of his favorites on the list.

 

“A slice of lemon pie, and coffee, please.” Kaito blinks, while clearly audible. The boy had uncharacteristically spoken in a near-silent voice, maybe the prices were too much for the kid’s allowance? (Or what was likely left of it, he had seen the boy pull out a few thousand bills to pay for _books._ Of all things.)

So he reaches across the table to hook his curled finger and thumb under the boy’s chin, forcing him to look up.

 

“Now, Tantei-kun don’t be so shy~ I won’t bite. I can pay for it if it’s too much for you, you know.” Conan scoffs, harshly pulling his head back and away from the magician’s hand eyeing it warily as if the teen’s bare hand could set something in that brief action. (Though with Kid you can _never_ be too sure.)

 

“As if I’m not a damsel in distress, I’m paying for my share.” Kaito grins.

 

“No, no~ I insist, plus it’s only fair, and I’m the one who dragged you here.” Conan’s face predictably scrunches in discomfort.

 

“Half.” Conan glares at the teen, making him back away a bit with a small shiver.

 

“Now, now, Tantei-kun, off with the death glares, will you?” the boy glares even harder. “Okay… half…” Conan nods, satisfied. So, Kaito gestures for the same waitress to take their orders, relaying the boy’s order first before he could say anything, and adding his own before the detective could react. Even if the boy stubbornly glares at him until their orders arrived not even ten minutes later.

When it did, he felt his breath catch in his throat when the boy does a complete 180 shift in his personality. Brightening up like Christmas had come early as his eyes landed on his set. A contrast to Kaito’s chocolate sweets galore. But the boy digs in as enthusiastically with manners, so Kaito mirrors the boy’s actions.

Knowing they’d need all the energy they can get and a short distraction.

 

When they are around their last bites, Kaito decides he should be the one presenting the initiative to open their topic, he is the older one after all. And while he’d seen the boy let off some steam to vent out his frustrations, Kaito had long since expected the endgame to his and Aoko’s relationship.

 

“I have this childhood friend…” Conan’s head lifts, eyes looking at him curiously, but not judging, nor urging, staying silent and open. Kaito smiles, appreciating the patience. “We used to be so close, you know… the first time we met, it was just like a click and we fit together like puzzle pieces.

I really, liked her, you know?” Kaito breathes, Conan still remains silent, waiting for Kaito to open up on his own.

“We were practically the best of friends, did everything together, even when causing mischief. I always thought we’d be, you know…” Kaito blinks because there was no way Conan would understand that, as smart as he is, _he’s_ still a _kid_. “I thought, we’d eventually end up together, go on dates… but I became Kid.” Kaito sighs, all false cheer draining, willing to slightly open his Poker Face, because Tantei-kun, _Conan_ will understand. Likely the only one who can.

However, that doesn’t mean he’ll tell the boy about his own problems with Snake and his fellow goons. That incident with the Jet-Black Mystery Train had left an impression on him, and he knows that the little detective is already occupied with his own conflict with shady men.

No need to add to those problems.

Knowing the boy, he’d put himself in danger all because he wanted to help, and Kaito would never forgive himself if that were the case.

 

“I actually thought, when I can give Kid up, finish my mission. I could come clean to her, but it’s easier said than done… what I thought would be simple, I got a wake-up call a few heists later. I knew then that we wouldn’t work out, not with something as big as Kid between us. Not mention she hates Kid with a passion.

When I accepted that, I pulled back, trying to set her free even though it hurts.” Conan listens attentively, eyes sparkling and dimming at every new knowledge that enters his mind. “But I had to let her go, so I did…

And of course, my childhood friend had to make that complicated, she tried getting my attention. Subtly nudging to get me to confess.” Kaito’s certain he doesn’t imagine the brief wince Conan shows, but he shoves it off, seeing as he isn’t actually looking directly at the boy. “So, I played dumb, dodging the bullets here and there. I played the dense fool I was because I couldn’t be anyone else. If I wasn’t, she’d know I’ve become too different, she’d know the changes.

So, I didn’t respond to her. When she tried being more obvious, I upped the ante by making emphasis on our friendship.” Kaito breathes.

 

“She moved on.” Conan states, having already obviously deduced from his stance. Kaito nods, chuckling wryly.

 

“Yes, now she’s going out with a club member that has been attracted to her since last year. And I’ve already told myself to let her go, but…”

 

“It’s hard, even if you know you have to let her go, you can’t help but want to cling to her. So she has to be the one who let’s go.” Kaito blinks because he had thought that Tantei-kun would understand bits of it, he didn’t expect such _deep_ comprehension. So he doesn’t stop the smile that breaks on his face, nodding.

 _Because, wow, Tantei-kun is simply amazing_. Not that he didn’t know that before, but he’ll have to revisit that idea because Tantei-kun has just proven himself to be even more _amazing_.

And that thought nearly sends him scowling, because _someone had hurt Tantei-kun_.

 

He must have let his Poker Face down, or Tantei-kun could read him better than he expected, because the boy shifts in his seat, already opening his lips to talk.

 

“I also have a… close friend. I do like her and I care for her very much. I’d give anything just to make sure she’s safe and happy.” Kaito is suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to scoop the boy up and hug him, because really, whoever that girl was, _is a brat_. She doesn’t deserve this brilliant boy’s smile. But Kaito taps it down because this is just who Conan is. “I made a lot of foolish, naïve promises too… and I wish to just… well, at least meet up with her. Not as…” the boy hesitates because if anything, this was a concrete proof Kaito needed, that Edogawa Conan doesn’t actually exist.

Before he could capitalize on such thoughts though, the boy continues. “But I can’t, not as I am now… she’d be horrified.” Kaito’s purses his brows, because he knows that Tantei-kun’s face isn’t a mask or did it have to do with how he generally looks? But then, _why_ would that be a problem?

 

Not to be a narcissist—since they do share an uncanny resemblance, but _he knows_ that Conan will be a looker when he grows up, accompanied by that mind and sweet personality. He would have _both_ men and women flaunting themselves at him. ( _Kaito is intimately aware of how many are attracted to him on sheer appearance alone until his madness scares them away._ )

Conan would have flocks and of flocks of fans after him.

But of course, the boy continues, cutting off his thoughts once again.

 

“She’ll know…” the boy breathes. “She’ll know that I’ve been lying to her for nearly two years now. That I’ve been hurting her intentionally just to keep up my lie, and I can’t even say I didn’t know how she’d be affected, because I _knew_ how she would be affected, and I’ve seen enough proof of it too. She cares for me enough as _Conan_ , but… she wants the other me more, or she used to.

I saw it coming, so when she said she’ll have to let us go… I agreed. Because there was nothing else I could do. What was I going to say? Keep giving her false hope, until she breaks to the point she can’t recover?” the boy chuckles, almost as if he’s going to cry, but no tears beaded in his eyes they remained dry, even though they shined with the threat of forming tears. “Tell her the truth? Which might as well be doing the same thing, and like me she’ll start to live in…” he trails off. And Kaito had to fill in the gaps in his mind, seeing the flicker of _fear_ in the boy’s eyes, he had a form of an idea for the child’s motivations.

“I can’t do that to her… and she might have not said it but, she might as well have. Even if I do get back to who I _was_. She’d likely rather not see me for a while—not after everything I did to her.” the boy lets out an indignant squawk when Kaito suddenly leaped from his side to pull the detective to his chest.

 

“Oh, Tantei-kun, how dare she! Yes, I understand she’s hurt, but you’re hurting too, aren’t you?” _You shouldn’t have to go through this_ … was left unsaid, the boy squirms in his grip, his protests of _“Let me go, Kid!”_ muffled by the teen’s clothing and body, not minding if they gathered the attention of the other patrons for a bit.

 

“Kid—let me go, damnit! I _don’t_ _need_ a _hug!_ ” the boy hisses venomously, so Kaito flicks his forehead.

 

“It’s not for _you_ , Tantei-kun.” Kaito huffs out, making the boy stop in his confusion and curiosity. “It’s for the you whom you lost, and for Conan who’s left with all the pieces.” Kaito expected the dumbfounded confusion, because _yes_ , what he said was contradictory, it made sense and _didn’t_.

But he continues cuddling the boy, it takes Conan a few seconds to recover and restart his struggles, near silent threats escaping his lips.

 

“ _Kid_ , _seriously_ , _let me go!_ ”

 

“Shhh… Tantei-kun, the others will hear you, what will they say when they find out that Kid Killer is hanging out with the likes of me?” Conan freezes and ultimately glares at the older teen.

 

“ _And just who’s fault would that be?!_ ”

 

…

 

Conan refuses to hold Kid’s hand as the Phantom Thief escorted him back towards the Professor’s house. Their earlier squabble had been put to a stop by the ping of Conan’s phone, Haibara demanding where he is in worried capitalized and bolded letters, (how she managed that on phone, he’ll never know, nor would he ask) accompanied by multiple exclamation marks.

But it was getting late, and Conan knew his parents, the professor, and Haibara knew enough to leave him be. However, _since_ it was getting so late, they were worried, _of course_. He had never expected that talking about his and Ran’s now non-existent relationship, no matter how anonymously and vaguely—because the Thief knew Ran; even disguised as her once—had taken off some weight on his chest and shoulders that he never even noticed he was carrying.

So, he allows a small smile form on his face.

 

It may have been an unexpected development for him to run into Kid while he was venting—or Kid happening onto him as he was, to be more accurate—it wasn’t an unwelcome change.

Not at all, Kid had helped him, as much as he had helped Kid.

 

“Hey, Kid—” Kid then tuts loudly, making him stop in his tracks.

 

“How cold… and here, after our Heart-to-Heart, I thought we’d be closer than that. I expected that we’d be in first-name-basis already.” Kid huffs like a, well, _like a kid_. Which, after analyzing what he just said, sounds absolutely stupid, because _say what now?_

 

“ _What?_ ” Kid smirks, and Conan is sorely tempted to fire a soccer ball at his face—

 

“I may not yet trust you completely to give you my full name ( _yet_ ). But _please_ , call me Kai, Tantei-kun.” Kid—or _Kai_ , bows making a mock gesture of removing his top hat and posing like a performer with it, only his black cap remains firmly in place. Though slightly concealed, Conan could see the genuine, wide grin on the young man’s face. So, with a sharp huff, and blush. He sighs, thinking it over. It would be unfair if only Kid were to offer part of his real name—

“You don’t have to return the sentiment immediately, Tantei-kun. Whatever it is—” _No, no, no, no. That just really wouldn’t be fair_ , and before he could think about it, he’s already speaking.

 

“Call me Shin.” Kid— _no_ , _it’s_ _Kai_ _now_ —blinks, clearly caught off guard; likely not expecting the return of the sentiment so soon. “And the feelings mutual, _thief_.” Kai snickers to the side and that honestly makes Conan wonder, because Kid—err, _Kai_ had these brief moments that he seemed like he just wanted to do nothing but laugh. Not out of mockery, but something that he found adorable and endearingly amusing. ( _Not that he was adorable_.)

Then, something hits Conan’s thoughts, he now had the _Kaitou Kid’s_ first name, while it was likely just a part of it; it would be a _start_. So, he eyes the clearly second generation Kid in front of him, and wonders. ( _Also, it’s Kai! Get it right—_ why _was he getting so worked up on this? Oh, right, we don’t want to become a second Hattori._ )

 

Kid— _Kai_ had implemented something heavy, like an obligatory responsibility. One Conan already had an inkling of when Kai showed this nearly religious ritual whenever he steals a gem. Which means, _he’s looking for something_. Though _what_ , and _why_ remains unanswered. While his more curiosity bound detective side is already wrecking at the seams, to _observe, gather_ , _analyze_ , and _deduce_. He tramples it down because _that wouldn’t be fair_.

He has already gained more than enough clues to track the current Kid’s identity, his motives, and his backstory for the _whys_. But Kai rarely has anything on him, while he’d more than implied it earlier that _Edogawa Conan_ is like Kai’s _Kaitou Kid_ , however, Edogawa Conan is also a real person with an actual persona—yet also doesn’t exist. _Shouldn’t exist._

 

It would take a huge leap of logic to deduce that Conan is a de-aged high school detective and not an abnormally smart prodigy detective. While the other teen may act near-manic, Conan knew that there was _some_ logic behind there, which would deny the existence of the de-aging poison. Conan had this dilemma, and he’s living it.

( _Shut up Hattori, you don’t count you, superstitious freak._ )

Not to mention, there had been recorded appearances of both Shin’ichi and Conan in one place. Conan in plain sight while Shin’ichi is speaking through the phone on loudspeaker mode. And other instances that he, Haibara, Hattori, the Professor, and his parents had bent backward and gone out of their way to keep it from coming out to the public and to cover the connection between both Edogawa Conan and Kudo Shin’ichi.

It really wouldn’t be fair to Kai, not at all.

 

 _“Shin-chan?”_ Conan blinks, staring up at Kai’s curious face. “You okay?”

 

“Y-yeah… was just thinking.” Conan sighs, not quite comfortable with the fact that he had spaced out that much, what was wrong with him? He needed to keep track of his surroundings, especially since— _no_ , those aren’t thoughts, for now, those are for _later_. He glances up at Kai’s curious and slightly uneasy face.

“I won’t track you down, even though you practically just handed that to me on a silver platter… but… I’ll respect that you willingly gave me the privilege to know your name, even if it’s just a part of it and—” Kai _laughs_ , so of course, Conan feels absolutely justified with kicking him at the shins. Making him choke on his own laughter because _he was trying to be sincere here!_

 

“You’re adorable~” Kai says after taking a deep breath.

 

_—What?_

 

 _“What in the hell are you talking about? Have you_ finally _lost it?!”_ Kai beams at him.

-

When he got to the Professor’s place, he ignores everyone’s inquiring stares; all of them alternating their focus between him, and Kai—who's already leaving, having done his _job_. _Apparently_.

Groaning, he practically flees out of the residence and into the one next door.

Akai—er, _Subaru_ ( _Damnit, stop being contagious, Hattori!_ ) must have seen him coming, because the man was already opening the door for him, letting him in without much question. Just an understanding sympathetic smile.

 

It is only after he dusted his bed, buried in his comforter that he finally registers _exactly what Kid_ just called him.

 

 _‘He called me Shin-chan!’_ so he groans out loud and buries his head in his pillow. Swearing retribution on their next off-heist meeting.

 

_'Wait... next meeting?'_

 

…

 

Kaito smiles, because Tantei-kun, _Conan_ and _Shin,_ was absolutely, brilliantly adorable. His detective had been too deep in thought earlier that he had missed Kid’s—because that was actually more Kid than Kaito—jab of: _“Is Shin short for Shinigami, Conan-kun?”_

So, engrossed in his thoughts that a call of “Shin-chan” snapped him out of it, which may mean that someone did intimately call the boy by that name. However, the boy didn’t even properly respond to that and instead said what was in his mind for the better part of that minute.

 

He was almost out of the block of that mad-inventor’s residence when he felt a pair of eyes drilling holes to him. It made his hair stand on edge—and that wasn’t Tantei-kun’s _too sinister_ , it was familiar but _not_.

Good mood evaporated, he discretely looked around his surroundings, eyes checking each and every possible hiding spot. He was about to keep scanning when he caught movement from the corner of his eyes. And he tracks the movement to the residence next to the one he just dropped Tantei-kun at, the curtains on the second story moved, albeit minutely—but he was willing to bet his Kid gear that someone was standing there looking out.

However, that wasn’t the owner of the gaze he felt, because that man was most likely that terrifying pink-haired man he took a picture of, and both him and Tantei-kun eventually cornered him.

 

 _No_ , the angle was off.

 

So, he leaves the area, circles the area—looking for the source. Partly worried who was the owner of that piercing gaze, and _who_ it was they were keeping track of.

 

He didn’t get to go home until it was the ungodly hours of the morning—having done multiple backtracks, switching disguises left and right, circling around, and sneaking inside his own household _._ He goes inside through the hidden backdoor, slinking through the shadows in the dim kitchen, only to bump into something solid _that shouldn’t be there_.

 

…

 

The man silently snorts, hidden well in his spot, unseen from every direction, unless he wants them to see him. He had felt the exact moment the undercover FBI had sensed his minute presence, and how the pretty little birdie had tried to look for him to no avail. He would play with the pretty bird, but _unfortunately_ , that wasn’t what he’s supposed to do.

He was under strict orders to keep monitoring, which meant he _wasn’t_ allowed to _play_ until he was told to.

 

 _It was unfair_ —because mother had her fun, she’s been playing with his target that it wasn’t fair, _at all_.

 

 _But father and mother did promise._  If he would behave long enough, be good for them.

 

_He could play with his nephew all he wants._

At the moment though, he had some errands to do.

-

A shrill, notification ping pierces through the near-silent hum of the computer machinery and the air-conditioner. Stationed in the middle of the room is a homogenous cushioned seat, the frames too big for their current occupant who perked up at the tone and reached for his phone.

After acquiring the gadget, a series of taps, a wide smirk envelops his face.

 

**_“Finally, after all these years. We will be reunited once more… where you truly belong. And there is nothing that can stop me.”_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **(…**   
>  **…**
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> **I… well, um… uh… okay.**
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> **I’ll put it out frank, and simple, this chapter had a hard time coming out… but here it is, in all its glory. _Kinda._**
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> **Until the next chapter.**  
>  **Adieu.**  
>  **— DescriptivePessimism-DAA)**
>
>>  
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>> _Why did no one tell me I was spelling "headcanons" wrong?_  
> 
> 
> _Editing them in FFN will be a bitch_  
>  [I tend to ignore most of Microsoft's red underlined markings (due to the abundance of unsaved Japanese terms)] 


	5. IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Category:** Fanfiction, blah, blah, blah…  
>  **Rating:** M, consistently now, but it will fluctuate so it’s kinda T, again.  
>  **Character/s:** Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid, Kudou Shin’ichi | Edogawa Conan, Hakuba Saguru, Sera Masumi, Sera Mary, Black Organization.  
>  **Genres:** Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff.  
>  **Ship/s:** (Deadend)KaiAo, ShinRan. Pre-KidCon and friendship! establishment. Friendship!HakuKai
> 
>  **Implemented Headcanons:** Ran doesn’t wait for Shin’ichi, nor does Aoko. Hakuba is Kaito’s best friend. Shin’ichi is really too kind. Honest and Omitting; How to. How two boys try to be honest and keep their secrets. Conan is an adorable kid.  
> Rebounds yet not.  
> Some other characters showing—concerning interference.
> 
>  **Warnings:**  
>  I’m the author… (ꞇ_ꞇ ) (ح ( ד_ד (=OwO=)  
> And I will not be held responsible for any loss of innocence, or sanity… the warnings and ratings are there for a reason.
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> **Read responsibly.**
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> **Anyways… as always _enjoy_.)**

> **|IV|**

 

Kaito had felt his body freeze, already thinking up of the worst-case scenarios. That is until an over-familiar voice speaks up, accompanied by a flick of a switch and he is nearly blinded by the onslaught of light.

 

_“And just where the hell have you been?!”_

-

While Saguru did acknowledge and understand that Kaito needed his space with the recent developments with his and Nakamori’s relationships, he knew that he lacked certain aspects of fully understanding and sympathizing with the magician that stood out like a sore thumb in their relationship. Saguru knew that he couldn’t give the other teen advice on how to deal with his double life, but that doesn’t mean they couldn’t be friends. That doesn’t mean he couldn’t worry about his only friend, who is falling apart at the seams because his relationship with his childhood friend was deteriorating faster.

It would have eventually happened, Saguru had expected that, because double-lives, no matter how separate, does affect the other life. Just not this quick, he had thought that they’d have until the end of their high school, and _maybe_ Kaito would already be done with whatever it was he was dealing with while playing as fish bait.

 

Whereas their general treatment of each other in class hadn’t changed much, it was behind the walls of either his or Kaito’s walls that they got along. Kaito would pipe up with interesting angles to look on cases, and _sometimes_ Saguru would hint to him if he was ever stuck in planning his heists. The heist that Koizumi had insisted he attend, prepared to the bone with contingency plans— _because Kuroba-kun is in mortal danger, and he’ll be dead if you don’t_ —had changed everything between them. And Saguru liked to think it was for the better, and Baaya does seem to agree with that having already grown fond of Kaito in his first few visits.

Even if she was skeptical at first, now they are both equally protective of him. Plans of the heists now usually have Jii or Baaya covering a side in case things goes south, and Saguru surveying on his side of the opposite portion of the heist. Each having an earpiece to keep track of the ins and happenings of each heist.

 

Those men had been more active as of late. The last heist as the prime example, not to mention that canceled heist on the mystery train that was held by the Suzuki. Surprising, since those men tend to avoid Jirokichi’s issued challenged due to the attention it gathers. The explosion did garner attention but was filed away as a failed terrorist attack of sorts.

Not to mention, Kuroba hasn’t really come clean on that one. Not that he blatantly does, even when telling his backstory and his reason of taking up the mantle was disguised in a sort of riddled and coded fairy tale. He never even explicitly mentioned he’s Kaitou Kid in front of Hakuba, even if Hakuba already _did_ catch him red-handed.

Can he really be faulted when he panicked in retaliation when Kaito didn’t answer his phone that evening?

Not to mention he did hear Nakamori’s confession to the other, it was obvious that Kaito wouldn’t be in the best state of mind at the moment.

 

So of course, he expected brooding, moping, hell venting even. What greeted him when he pushed in the spare key to the Kuroba residence was silence, and the house so still as if it was abandoned. It didn’t take long for him to realize that Kaito wasn’t home.

 

Hours later, his watch turns productive when the current homeowner _does_ come in—well, _sneak in_ through the backdoor. While he’s the more rational part of his had immediately latched on that and nudge for him to notice that, that alone was weird because there was no way for Kaito to know he checked-up on him. He’s more irrational side won the argument and his mouth is already moving before he can stop himself.

 

 _“And just where the hell have you been?”_ and he knows if Baaya were here with him, she would have already moved to seat the other teen down and cornering him from escape—likely even Jii would help them.

Kaito recoiled back with a startled yelp, and Saguru saw the second his friend’s eyes frantically scanned the room, even as he switched on the light. Panic subsiding when those indigo eyes landed on him.

 

“Oh, it’s just _you_.” Kaito breathes in relief.

 

“Just _me_? Oh, of course, what did you expect, Kuroba? I mean it’s not like I wasn’t worried when my texts were ignored and my calls wouldn’t go through.” Kaito sheepishly laughs, somehow exuding an apologetic aura all the whilst. Knowing that he wouldn’t really get a verbal apology from the part-time thief, he sighs and adds.

“And? Where were you? It’s _late_ , _and_ I don’t think you should come in tomorrow.” while he didn’t need to, he did glance at the clock on the far wall just to prove his point, Kaito _positively_ wilts—so uncharacteristic but understandable why he did all the same.

 

“Hakuba… I…” Saguru doesn’t push nor prompt him, letting himself take a seat on one of the dining chairs, practically silently coercing the gentleman thief to do the same. Kaito thankfully obeys, in other times Saguru would be more than relieved for this development, however knowing the cause just made him more alarmed and _sad_.

It _hurt_ to see the normally bubbly and rebellious teen like this. But of course, as if cued by his thoughts to just _prove him wrong_ , he never saw it coming when Kaito gives him a slightly strained but nonetheless genuine smile, almost beaming. The change was so quick that it was staggering. _And odd_ —but now wasn’t the time to think much of that because Kaito was already rambling.

“I’m fine really, just went out for a night stroll, and I just bumped into someone I know and we just talked over dinner.” well, his mouth wasn’t, as if determined to keep whoever it was a secret—but his eyes gleamed this interested and _happy_ glint that Saguru had to force and push down the negative twinge in his chest.

If Kaito was happy, he should be too.

 

So instead of reacting badly, he raises a skeptical brow.

“ _Right_ , and I presume this dinner led to something more, that you returned in the ungodly hours of the morning, flushed and out of breath?” well, _not too badly_ at least. When Kaito’s face turns even redder, only then did he notice the full other meaning of his statement. But he doesn’t retract it even if his friend does splutter, almost choking on his words.

 

“Wha-Hakuba… y-you… _whattheheck…”_ he breathes, and Saguru is nearly tempted to chuckle at the usually unruffled magician in front of him but held his stern composition. “ _What the hell_ , _he and I didn’t do anything of the sort!_ ” he _nearly did_ break though—also, _Kaito met up with a guy?! That late of an hour?! Who?!_

But he couldn’t really, disclose his curiosity— _ahh, who was he kidding?_

 

“ _He_?” it would have been amusing to watch how Kaito almost falls down when he tried to mold himself into the back seat, spluttering again. But not when he, himself is also high strung. Thankfully, Kaito got the full extent of his message after that.

 

“It’s really _not_ what you think, Haku-baka…” Kaito glares. “We just really saw each other by chance, had dinner and we talked.”

Somehow—though not really mystifying, _this is the Kaitou Kid_ —Saguru doesn’t really believe that’s what just happened.

 

“ _Really?_ ”

 

“ _Yes!_ ” Kaito exclaims dramatically. “Goddamnit, Hakuba. Stop _nagging_ , it’s weird.”

 

“Is It really weird to be concerned for a person’s wellbeing? That’s common decency.” Kaito glares clearly off-put, but not as irate as he would expect. Stressed, that one’s for sure, but it wasn’t directed at him.

 

“Hakuba.” _I know you’re interrogating me, stop it._ Saguru nearly chuckles, to think a growl could say so much—then again, _Kaitou Kid_. Or maybe, it was _Kuroba Kaito_.

 

“Fine, but you’re telling me where you went and _when_ —what you did in that timeframe and _with who_.” _It’s not negotiable, if we’re doing_ this _we need to be in_ this _together._ Kaito huffs but complies if with a mock show of begrudging compliance.

 

“I don’t really see the big deal, I was just angry, so I went on a stroll to cool my head…” that one is honest, if slightly omitting. “Saw someone familiar—” Saguru had to ask, _what were the odds of that?_ But he doesn’t vocalize it, letting his friend continue. “—thought it would be nice to talk since we haven’t seen each other in a while…” well, he’s not _lying_ , but not telling the full truth either, and Saguru wonders who it could be. _Was it someone who knew_ _Kuroba Kaito_ or _Kaitou Kid?_

“Thankfully, he did accept my invitation, because it was getting cold, and none of us were _stupid_ enough to try our hands on pneumonia.” was it just him, or did Kaito just mutter something like; _‘Really can’t say the same for him…’_ under his breath? “So, I took him to a nearby café and we ate, and talked. That’s all.”

_No, that wasn’t all_. _In no way_ that _was all_.

 

“And you two talked until _three in the morning_?” _No café would be open at that time, Kuroba. Where were you?_ Kaito scoffs.

 

“ _No_ , seriously, that was it we talked, then when the café was about to close we left.”

 

“And you guys still talked, where?” while Kaito didn’t exactly shift, it was the slight deep heave of a sigh he did that gave him away to Saguru—and the fact that his brows twitched no matter how slight, but telling the magician his tells would just make him strive to hide it even better.

 

A glare. _You’re not letting this slide, are you?_

 

A raised brow and cocked head was answer enough. _No, not when you came back like that._ Kaito sighs as if expecting it.

 

“Okay, we _talked_ … when things got too heavy, we decided it was too suffocating to be inside a bright, pastel-colored café and left. I walked him home and made my way back circling the town. _Geez_.” Kaito sounded less like a teen, or even the moonlit magician he claims to be and is more like a petulant child caught red-handed doing something he shouldn’t do.

Saguru took his time analyzing the sentence, trying to decide which should he pick to compound on. He already had an inkling on what they talked about regarding the recent events, but there were things he needed to know more.

 

“You walked him home, exactly _where_?” he asks, _too close_ then Kaito should have made it home sooner, too far, he should have just stayed over—if that was an option. Unaccounted occurrences aside. Kaito’s face scrunches minutely likely to convey his ire in his prying, but Saguru could tell it wasn’t just that. Kaito exactly knew his line of thought.

 

“His home, where else?” Saguru narrows his eyes at the teen in front of him, who had no qualms returning the gesture.

 

“Who is _he_ , Kuroba?” _Nope,_ Saguru wouldn’t actually call him Kaito to his face. Who knows what the insufferable gallivanting blanket would do.

Kaito pointedly turns his nose away from him with a huff.

“ _Kuroba_ , _who_ did you meet up with? Does he know—”

 

“ _No_ … well, part of it, but not all of it.”

 

“Are you Kuroba Kaito to him?” he asks—not bothering to dip it in multitudes coats of latex—watching closely, taking in the valiant attempt of covering up, but he got the negative as his answer anyway.

 _Then someone who knows Kaitou Kid_ , but _who exactly_ is the question.

 

But knowing it is _Kaitou Kid_ narrows the list unless Kaito met someone he’s determined to keep under the wraps.

It’s certainly not the good old inspector, _nor those men_ … it wasn’t him, nor was it Jii, because it really wouldn’t take Kaito more than an hour, even circling the town as he said. Plus, when Kaito bumped into him earlier, a fleeting touch on his clothes told him he was outside for _hours_.

Baaya would have told him, Kaito avoids Akako like plague. It certainly wasn’t a fangirl, or it would be all over social media—even if Kaito wanted to play it low… unless he actually asked her to, but that was highly improbable knowing him. _Speaking_ of, it wasn’t a girl either. Kaito had specifically referred to him as a ‘he,’ and from his actions alone he knew and trusted the other male—which spurred another negative twinge inside of his chest that needed a good smack, shove and a tight lid to keep it in check.

It couldn’t be the heist targets owners; they hated Kid with a passion and had personal agendas against him. Those that could classify as a Kid fan were in another country altogether. So that left the detectives. Aside from Hakuba there were two other detectives, but the other was a simple fly-by, so shouldn’t really count—and speaking of, he would have to ask the inspector who that was, because there were _gunshots_ from a licensed municipal helicopter from a _licensed_ standard issue handgun. Even if it was only aimed at the thief’s vicinity and not actually to him.

That leaves one detective, _Edogawa Conan_ —but surely no? Kuroba hasn’t lost all sense and talked with _Edogawa Conan_ , of _all people_ , right? That boy, despite his age, _is terrifying_. _Ruthless_ is what Hakuba would describe him.

 

“ _Kuroba_ , tell me _who was it?_ ”

 

“Nope~” Saguru sighs at the too cheerful denial with exasperation.

 

“ _Kuroba._ ” _Now’s not the time for games._ Kaito pointedly huffs, looking away. “ _Kuroba._ ” _Stop acting like an immature kid!_

 

“You’ll freak.” _I am not!_

“I _won’t_.” _You are._  Kaito looks at him dryly, unconvinced. Saguru sighs. “ _I won’t_.”

 

“Hmm…” Kaito frowns, posture practically screaming ‘unconvinced’ at him. Saguru refused to back down and returned the other’s stare with his own. “ _Fine._ ”

Saguru sighed in relief, grateful that _finally_ , Kaito was being sensible…

 

“It’s Tantei-kun…”

 

_Tantei-kun…? But that’s…_

_Edogawa Conan._

 

—or not.

 

…

 

Masumi sighs as she walks out of the lift towards the halls that lead to her hotel room. She was certain that the cure she and her mother were hunting down had something to do with that tea-blonde haired girl that she hasn’t quite met. And that the base of her operations is inside that portly professor’s house.

Any attempts of discretely sneaking in while both residents were away proved to be futile when it is closely watched by that strawberry haired man from the Kudou’s residence. If not there were some disguised FBI and PSB members that loitered around the block—always alarmed as if they were set as a parameter by Kudou-kun. Which, wouldn’t actually surprise her. From what she and her mother could grasp, the Organization has been silent but undoubtedly moving, almost like a creeping snake waiting for the exact moment to strike.

 

Masumi frowns—if the Organization was moving as her mother has anticipated, they need to be ready on their end too, else they’ll be caught off-guard and unprepared, but to do that her mother needed the antidote first. Her mother could defend herself quite well, still having her skills as a martial artist herself. However, de-aging wasn’t really part of the plan or any plan. With the Apoptoxin, her mother’s strength weakened, and not just that her immune system was absolutely shot down.

If her mother was right that the girl that has been so keen on avoiding her sights is a shrunken Sherry, if they cannot get an antidote out of her, they needed some supplements. While according to Ran that _Conan_ does get sick fairly often, he is still quite physically fit, unlike her mother who seems to be chronically ill.

Seeing how both Kudou and Sherry could remain healthy while in that state, well enough to chase after criminals and not breaking into a near-asphyxiating coughing fit, they should be taking something to keep their health to upkeep. _That is_ , _if_ the antidote wasn’t available, and from Kudou Shin’ichi sporadic appearances, it was likely that the antidote was still in its testing stage.

 

Masumi would have just liked to approach Conan and come clean to him, seeing as they all had one common adversary, and get the antidote that way—maybe raise their chances of getting the final antidote with the raised numbers of test subjects. ( _Not_ that she’d actually _want_ to subject _her mother_ to that— _though if necessary_ her mother _would_ volunteer.)

However, her mother had warned her against him—that something about Kudou had changed and that he wasn’t quite the same as he was before. Which should actually make sense, because it has been a _decade_ since they last met, not to mention without the not-so subtle overhauling hints on her part he likely wouldn’t have even remembered her. And, form what she could see, he hasn’t even changed that much.

 

Honestly, her mother’s issues just confuse her at the best of times.

 

Sighing once again, she slides her copy of the keycard into the scanner, before entering the room. Hearing the faint report of the early morning news, which soon flickered off into silence.

 

“No luck?” her mother asks the moment she got close enough too not require her mother loudly exclaiming. She lets another heavy sigh answer that. “I see. Get some rest, I’ll wake you up for your classes. I told you to be home by midnight, why did you extend it?”

She grumbles falling on her bed, but answers anyways—this night had been different after all.

 

“Kudou-kun went out late at night on his skateboard. It was impossible to tail him without getting spotted, not at the pace he was going.” Masumi looks up when she hears the tin can pop and hiss of a soda being opened, her mother walks close to her offering the can. Muttering a ‘thank you’ to the de-aged woman, Masumi tips her head back to swallow a mouthful.

“He came back late, I don’t know where he went and what he did but there was someone with him.” when her mother’s eyes narrowed in blatant skepticism, Masumi couldn’t stop herself from sitting upright to calm her mother.

 _Who was already suspicious about him for some reason_.

“It’s no one suspicious or related to _Them_ … I swear!” her mother just glared harder. Masumi gulps feeling cold sweat breaking across her skin—knowing her mother just even be more suspicious of Kudou being accompanied by a stranger, and _that_ just wouldn’t do. Especially in the long run.

Thinking back on the memory of Conan being accompanied by another teen and hearing Conan say his name, her mouth is already moving before she could rethink it. “It was just _Kaitou_ _Kid_ , I swear!”

 

On hindsight, _maybe_ she shouldn’t have said that.

 

Her mother’s eyes widened minutely before they narrowed rapidly and she clicked her tongue.

 

…

 

“You went out to dinner _with Edogawa Conan?!_ ” Kaito would have laughed at how hysterical Hakuba looked if he wasn’t the one the other was giving a bewildered, near-manic stare.

“ _Kuroba are you insane?!_ ”

 

Well, so much for not freaking out.

 

“No, you already are, but have you finally lost all sense of sensibility you have left?!”

Well, likely with how unbalanced he was after what Aoko pulled on him most likely. But _Tantei-kun wasn’t that bad!_

Sure, soccer ball sized bruise dangerous, but he wasn’t _bad_.

 

“I don’t know if I should be offended, but I think I should be with how you just insulted Conan-kun. He’s not _that bad_ , Haku-baka.” Hakuba splutters, before he groans.

 

“ _That’s not_ what I meant!” Yes, Kaito understood perfectly well what he meant, actually. “He’s the opposite! I’ve seen him work and corner a criminal Kuroba. He’s absolutely _ruthless_ , he’s amazing as a detective.” Kaito blinks, because did Hakuba just seriously _compliment Tantei-kun?_ Not that the brat didn’t deserve, but this is _Hakuba_.

“What I _want to know_ is if _you_ finally lost all sense of sensibility approaching him without a disguise but a cap! If anyone were to find out who you were without—”

 

“Okay, Hakuba, stop right there! It’s _fine_ , Conan-kun and I talked over it.” Okay, so Kaito does understand why Hakuba feels like he should be worried. If Kaito didn’t see Conan as he was, he probably wouldn’t have talked so compromisingly with the littlest detective.

So, _technically_ , Hakuba does have a good reason to be wary but not even Hakuba fully understands the stress of a double life.

 

“Talked over it? Talked over how you took up the mantle of an international thief and have a metaphorical and literal target painted on your back? Not to mention, a _bounty_ on your head?” Kaito winces because even though he tried to conceal it, he could read the flash of confused hurt in Hakuba’s features.

 

“Well, _no_ , not exactly… I mean, Conan-kun’s a bright kid—he would have already gotten the clue that I’m not the first Kid? He wasn’t entirely surprised… and he did figure out I’m younger than the claimed age for Kid?” he winces, Hakuba did not look impressed. “I’m _not exactly_ sure, but he said I showed him proof when I disguised myself as Ran-san?” _And other younger females, and he might have implied I was either a pedophile or I was actually younger than first thought. Not to mention, heavily implied that I’m a successor._

Hakuba sighs almost resigned.

“We didn’t talk about Kid at all? Just about Aoko…” Hakuba’s brows furrows, before he could add Kaito speaks over him, just to explain. Because as much of an ass Hakuba is, he’s still his friend. Hakuba blinks.

 

“You talked to someone, at least a decade younger about your love-life problems and the actual lack of it with Nakamori-san?” Kaito splutters because hearing it from someone else’s mouth actually does sound dumb.

 

“Okay, _not_ like that… kind of? But not really? I mean, I told him how being Kid also affects my personal life…” Hakuba sighs.

 

“I would have listened too, you know.” Kaito blinks, _no_ , because Hakuba wasn’t actually seeing the _point_ why Kaito confided in the boy.

_But Tantei-kun’s secret wasn’t his to tell._

 

“I know you would… but he just understood?” Okay, that was too revealing for his liking, he could even hear the gears whirling in the Brit’s head.

“He also had someone waiting for him.” Kaito adds, and while he might be overstepping his boundaries with the littlest detective’s trust in him, he needed to make Hakuba trust Conan with Kuroba Kaito— _not that he needed the Brit’s permission._

( _Also, that sounded weird._ )

 

Kaito shoves the thoughts away when he sees Hakuba’s bewildered look, _because yes_ , Conan is _six_. (Or _seven_ —damnit, he hopes Tantei-kun isn’t sensitive on that.)

 

 _“Had,_ so that someone moved on?” Kaito nods instead, unwilling to give away more than necessary. Hakuba sighs, likely already figuring out that the boy isn’t quite who he says he is.

“Of course, he does…” Hakuba looks at him contemplating, searching that Kaito couldn’t help but straighten in response. “Do you trust him?” good question.

 

Would he trust the boy when it comes to the safety of others? Yes, absolutely.

 

Would he trust the boy’s plots? Of course, they tend to work well.

 

Would he trust his life to the boy? Well, aside from that mishap on the Jet-Black Train, the boy hasn’t really given him a reason why not to. Their interactions at the heists aside—because that was a free-for-all warzone. But the boy did deliver when it counts in terms of rescuing and security.

 

Would he trust his secrets as Kid to the boy? He already started, the rest won’t be long. Conan did keep his own secrets well. (Unless of course, they’re dealing with some other super genius.)

 

Would he trust _Kuroba_ _Kaito_ to the boy? Someday, maybe… and maybe when the detective himself is ready—he too would let Kaito see under that kiddie mask.

 

“Yes.” Kaito would never doubt his answer. Hakuba sighs again, almost like a mother that finally cave in to her son’s crazy antics and that there was no changing it.

 

“ _Okay_ , I’ll give him the benefit of doubt…” something tells him that Hakuba sorely didn’t want to. But hey, _that was at least_ something.

 

…

 

Conan shudders, suddenly finding himself awake at the dead of night, looking around his room, nothing stood out to him. Looking around his room warily once more, he decided he was becoming too paranoid and was about to go back to sleep, when his phone; his _Conan_ phone, vibrated on the nightstand.

His brows furrowed, wondering who the hell would mail him at an ungodly hour of the morning, a quick peek told him it was _Kai_ —wait, since when did Kid get his number and input his own?

 

Groaning silently, he pushes himself up to crawl closer and grab his phone. Unlocking it he reads the message.

****

**_From:_ ** _Kai Ov < _

**_Subject:_ ** _Sorry to disturb your sleep, Tantei-kun. (Go back to sleep if you wish)_

_‘When the sun is at its peak,_

_The bluest carbuncle I shall seek._

_Let us meet again,_

_Like that churning night._

_And maybe together, once again we shall take flight.’_

_—K.K_

 

Conan blinks, rereading each and every line, making sure he wasn’t imagining it. When he confirmed it quadruple times, he allows a slow smirk to form on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( **No, I did not forget about Mary and Masumi.**
> 
>  
> 
> **Until the next chapter~**  
>  **Adieu.**  
>  **— DescriptivePessimism-DAA)**  
>  _[Dearest apologies for the much-delayed update… Hakuba’s dialogues weren’t coming in that easily. Mary wasn’t exactly cooperative either. Technically, all of the characters in here (this chapter) are as cooperative as a goat that’s eating in the opposite direction you’re trying to pull it to—and the goat is much, much stronger than you._
> 
>  
> 
> _Thank you.]_


	6. V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **(Chapter Title:** _I can't think of anything..._  
>  **Category:** Fanfiction  
>  **Rating:** M.  
>  **Character/s:** Kudou Shin’ichi | Edogawa Conan, Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid, Akai Shuuichi | Okiya Subaru, Miyano Shiho | Haibara Ai, Hakuba Saguru, Sera Masumi, Sera Mary, Black Organization.  
>  **Genres:** Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff.  
>  **Ship/s:** Pre-KidCon and friendship! establishment. Friendship!HakuKai
> 
>  **Implemented Headcanons:** Hakuba is Kaito’s best friend. Shin’ichi is really too kind. Honest and Omitting; How to. How two boys try to be honest and keep their secrets. Conan is an adorable kid.  
> Rebounds yet not.  
> Some other characters showing—concerning interference.
> 
>  **Warnings:**  
>  I’m the author… (ꞇ_ꞇ ) ד_ד) ح ) (=OwO=) [ _Fear me._ ]
> 
>  
> 
> **Read responsibly.**
> 
>  
> 
> **Anyways… as always _enjoy_.)**

 

> **|V|**

 

Akai purses his lips lightly, eyes narrowing at the reflection as he meticulously applied the last details of his contour. He places the blending sponge back in the kit, before grabbing Subaru’s wig, gently raking his fingers through the pinkish locks—styling them in place. Making sure his natural hair was still in place inside the hairnet, he secures the wig adding the strategically placed hairpins as he went. And as a finishing tough he takes the fake spectacles, narrows his eyes just enough. Smiling at his reflection, the harsh edges of Akai Shuuichi, the FBI bleeding away to make way for Okiya Subaru, the undergraduate engineering student.

Reaching for the voice changer, he just about snaps it in place when knocks came from the door.

 

 _“You done yet, Subaru-san?”_ he allows the curl of a light smirk form, Yukiko had informed him of what had happened last night when the shrunken detective all but bolted out of the Professor’s house. While, yes, he too had seen the signs of the deteriorating romantic relationship, he was nonetheless happy and proud that the detective chose to force through the heartbreak.

Not to mention, he does sound in live spirits today—and the fact that he was quite obviously accompanied by a certain moonlighting gentleman thief. While quite odd for a detective to be seen with an international wanted thief, he knew just how said thief could actually be trusted.

If the thief is the reason for Kudou Shin’ichi’s healing, so be it. He won’t stop the boy from being friends with him.

 

He settles into Subaru’s demeanor and presses the button to reply.

“Yes, I’ll unlock it now.” Conan’s face smiles up at him as he opens the door—and he doesn’t lose the opportunity to analyze the boy, he lets himself out as the boy rushes in.

The magician was doing them all a favor, while the darkness was still there and the tired expression of leading a double-life, it had receded on a considerable level.

 

At first he had been wary of Kaitou Kid, but the boy has once more shown him proof that said rival could be trusted at such cases.

He smiles, a detective and a thief, how ironic.

 

But if it made his savior happy, who was he to deny them of that?

 

So he doesn’t comment when the faint sound of triumph echoes from inside the bathroom, making his way to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for them both. (The Kudous’ had decided to stay in their hotel, having a flight in four hours.)

 

…

 

Haibara blinks, thinking she was imagining things, but another blink, a look away and back told her she wasn’t. Kudou was actually leaving the house next door with a wide megawatt smile on his face.

Not to mention that tilt of his usual self-satisfied smug smirk that just screamed he’d just solved another puzzle or a case. She stares at his retreating back as he rushes to go somewhere, skateboard tucked in his arm, Subaru had sent him off with an encouraging smile. While she could go over and ask, she’d really rather not approach the man too much.

To think she had nearly made herself worried sick for the detective the night before, knowing that it was her fault why things had become like this, gnawing on her lower lip in frustration—if only she hadn’t tried to complete that drug as half-baked as it was.

She had wondered who that teen was that accompanied Kudou home.

 

But seeing his expression as he just went outside the Kudou mansion, eyes lighting up, she decided that it didn’t really matter, not if it cheered him up—allowed him to get back up again.

With a wistful sigh, she decides to let go of her silly infatuation for him.

 

“Ai-kun?” snapping her head to the Professor, she gives the aged man a light smile, somehow, seeing that utterly joyful look on Kudou’s face, especially after she told him that the chances of actually finding the antidote at this stage was very low. Made her feel freer.

 

“It’s nothing. Did it start to boil?” the Professor gives her a curious look but answers her question anyway.

 

 _Maybe_ …

It was time for Haibara Ai to truly start living, she decides. They will bring down the Organization with or without the antidote, and hopefully, Kudou-kun thought the same.

 

…

 

Kaito stretches out his limbs, Hakuba had told him to rest and take the day off from school—considering he came home very late. Though he didn’t understand why the Brit found it necessary when he himself got as much sleep as Kaito did.

_“I already miss plenty enough of classes when I keep sporadically going back to London, your almost spotless record wouldn’t be damaged too hard if you take one day-off, Kuroba.”_

—Or so Hakuba says. Also, thinking back on it once again made Kaito wonder if he was somehow influencing Hakuba to be looser when dealing with rules because _Hakuba_ _encouraging Kaito to play hooky?_ Kaito never thought he’d see it happen until it just did.

But being Kaitou Kid had also allowed him to adjust to less sleeping hours, thus after a few hours of sleep, he already felt rejuvenated. Not to mention, even before that he never really needed that much time to sleep—always feeling like he’s overflowing with energy.

 

Thinking back on the note he sent to the littlest detective, he looks up at the bright sky from his spot, smiling recalling how his impromptu outing with the detective yesterday went. He smirks, already hearing the soft pitter patter of rushing feet on the stairs—the door swings open soon enough.

“Not trying to be subtle are you, Tantei-kun?” he smirks at the miniature detective, tipping his cap lower, nodding at the boy.

 

“I could say the same for you, Kid.” Conan taunts back with a smirk, making a blatant show of looking around the rooftop of Haido City Hotel. “Feeling nostalgic, are we?” Kaito snorts.

 

“Well, I just thought that we could use a reintroduction.” Conan huffs but doesn’t look offended.

 

“Then you should have set the time for later, don’t you have class?” Kid mirror’s the boy’s arched brow.

 

“Don’t you?”

 

“Teitan Elementary has a day off today, something about a meeting or something.” Kaito whistles.

 

“How lucky of you.” Conan grins.

 

“So, what did you call me out here for?”

-

Conan nearly melts, taking a long sip of his coffee. He stares at Kai whose brows furrowed, glaring at the cup in his hands.

“You don’t like bitter stuff, do you.” Kai blinks, leaning back and looking at him.

 

“I’m surprised you can drink that, Tantei-kun… I thought you would like sweet things.” _Considering your age._ Conan shrugs, lips tilting when the other teen makes a face at the coffee.

 

“I like sweets enough, not too much though. _Though_ I thought you’d actually like coffee.” _Considering your age._ Kai makes a disgusted face at the notion again, making a show of shuddering at the idea.

“Considering you pull such things late at night,” Kai gives him a baleful glare.

 

“I guess I understand how you can stay up so late for your cases.”

 

“And seeing your preference, I can understand how you juggle your night job and your daily obligations.” Kai makes a face.

 

“Must you be so formal, Shin-chan?” Conan twitches and fixes the thief a glare.

 

“Drop the – _chan_ , Kid.”

 

“Oh? And what would you do about it~?”

 

“I’ll scream that I’m being held against my will or that you’re a thief.” Shin’ichi—Conan relishes the fact that the teen swallows audibly, leaning away from him.

 

“You’re evil.”

 

…

 

Masumi drops her smile after excusing herself from Ran and Sonoko, despite not wanting to. Ran had clearly been through something yesterday night for her eyes to be slightly red as it was. However, she really couldn’t afford to dawdle, her mother didn’t like the development between Kudou and Kid that they had to also make a move of their own.

Not that Masumi saw the problem, well aside from the fact that she’s certain that Kid‘s a theatrical pervert—whether or not he knew that she was a girl. He had a long while before he could redeem himself to—

She lets out an inaudible gasp, hiding behind the building’s corner.

 

She had heard from Ran that the Teitan Elementary were having an off-day due to a seminar or meeting of some sort that all teachers had to attend, thus there was no need to pick up Conan, who was staying over at the Professor’s place anyways.

Which was a part of that she already knew, and the fact that Conan was accompanied home by the very Kaitou Kid.

What she did not expect was to find Conan walking around with the very same person from last night, in _broad daylight!_

 

She was just about ready to stomp her way to them, and demand what the hell the thief was playing at until she sees how unreasonable she was being. Not to mention she would expose herself to the boy at this rate.

And as if to add salt to the wound, the boy was smiling up genuinely at the man—genuinely enjoying their time together. That recognizable look of endearment he gives the people he had considered as precious, while he only gives her his wary stares. And she wonders, what did the _Kaitou Kid_ do to get someone like _Kudou Shin’ichi_ to trust _him_ , of all people?!

 

Growling lowly, she forces to calm herself, glaring at the thief before turning on her heel. Her mother wanted her to go back as soon as possible after all.

 

…

 

In the Kuroba’s Residence, having invited himself in once again after class was dismissed, Saguru resists the urge to slam his head on the nearest available surface and settles for his palm.

 _Of course_ , he should have known that Kaito wouldn’t just stay in place. And it would be just his luck that he _encouraged_ Kaito to play hooky, and played said hooky with a certain ruthless mini-detective named _Edogawa Conan_.

And knowing the boy, he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to hang out with _Kid_. Either to unmask Kaito or to actually genuinely get to know him, Saguru didn’t know which he’d prefer.

 

Realizing that the little detective and his classmate-and-part-time-thief actually had more things in common in their personality, just made him groan lowly. Reminding himself that Nakamori was still waiting outside the door apparently worried about Kaito’s health, but she froze when he just simply pulled out a key to the door as if he owned the place—there was a stricken expression on her face when she realized that _he had a spare key_ , one that Kaito likely personally gave to him and not pilfered from Kaito’s mother. (Little did she know it was actually because Kaito—despite his efficiency as a magician, as Kid and as someone with an eidetic memory—lost his keys multiple times, as he set the keys for the important part in the Kid Cave as priority, and loses his _house keys_ at least twice a week.

Saguru had caught him picking the lock of his own home—though, something told him that Kaito was doing it on purpose.)

But he couldn’t feel it in himself to feel guilty about it, because she did, nearly completely break Kaito yesterday—even if it took _another detective_ to get him back on track. Sighing, he makes his way up to Kaito bedroom, sending the other teen a quick text, he does a quick job of packing Kaito a uniform, a spare reconnaissance-Kid getup, and a set of nightwear.

 

He briefly tells Nakamori that he was only here to pick up Kaito some spare clothes for tomorrow, before leaving her alone, locking the house behind him—telling her to lock the gates.

 

Kaito would probably not like the fact that he had sent Nakamori home crying, but he felt vindictive. He wouldn’t feel guilty, _ashamed for stooping low_ , _**maybe**_ , but he would deal with it if Kaito does find out.

 

…

 

Night had fallen, and Kaito wondered if he should actually take the boy to his home soon—it was getting late. Well, not late if one were to consider an official Kid heist schedule, which this was _not_. A sort of heist—since he did imply he would steal the boy’s time for the day, and by extension the boy himself, but there was no audience, no publicized notice. A private heist. But even then, he’s the _Kaitou Kid_ , and Kaitou Kid returned what he stole. (Well, as long as that didn’t meet his end goal target’s criteria.)

Audience or not. (This rule should, of course, apply to _any_ Kid impersonator. Which is why the worse ones he believes are the murderers—because one could not return _life_.

Conan— _Shin_ was all too happy to agree with him, if somber.)

 

It was only when they passed by the most distinct landmark that he finally noticed that the boy had been leading them on an isolated park that had Haido City Hotel and a place high enough that a bit of the port from whence the Elizabeth Cruise Ship set sail from, both visible.

(He wondered whether the boy realized that if any of them had some sort of supernatural eyesight, he could also see the Ekoda’s Clock Tower from here, the place where he and Aoko first met tainted with _blooming magic_.)

 

He couldn’t stop the jolt his body gave when he heard the all-too-familiar hiss of an inflating soccer ball—berating himself because _Shin_ _wasn’t_ _even looking at him_ , rather he was looking _up?_ —then there was the familiar _click-click-click_ of the boy’s shoe dial being turned, the machine almost an audible whirl as it charged energy between their amiable silence.

A few quick steps forward, and Shin kicks the ball upwards, and hard enough—his body almost parallel to the ground, somehow flipping and _sticking the landing_ —that the ball flew up _vertically_.

 

“Shin-Tantei… what are you—” he blinks, because was it just him or did that ball just glowed?

Tantei-kun’s soccer ball had the tendency to partly glow, but that was because of the blur of white it tends to become, not actual glowing as if the boy just ejected a small star—but this was exactly it, the ball was glowing, not to mention getting _brighter_.

Then his breath hitches as the ball explodes, lighting up the darkened sky with bright colorful lights.

 

 ** _“Fireworks~!”_** the boy— _Shin—Tantei-kun—Conan-kun_ smirks.

 

He couldn’t help it, he laughs. And if he teared up a bit, he managed to shake them off.

 

“You really are extraordinary!” he misses the light flushing of the boy’s face.

-

Before any of them completely realized it, meeting up had become an almost unspoken routine. If none of them were free during the day, they met up late at night—if either couldn’t make it, they would send the other an apology via dove-messaging-delivery-express; one Conan could also have access to when one of Kid’s dove has taken to follow him around.

They could have easily exchanged phone numbers, or something like it—however, neither liked the fact how a phone could easily be tapped. At least with Kid’s birds as their medium for communication, lessens the chances of it being hijacked.

Disguised as common birds, of course.

 

Someday, maybe that would change. Kaito was willing to take that step, but it was Conan who vehemently disagreed. Pointing out that his current position could lead to the thief being targeted, not to mention they already interact both inside and outside of heists. If there was someone watching him, Kid would be targeted by now—which were of course not blatantly said, but a cut-off desperate protest.

Kaito only filled in the gaps as much as he could without much context from the little detective, and a peek when Conan went home to the Mouris told him exactly _why_.

_That blonde guy from the train was there!_

 

He was tempted to take the guy out, but the stern and obvious disapproving quick glance his way told him otherwise. So, he wisely kept away from both the Mouris’ residence and agency, and the café—unless of course, if he was in a disguise. Though even if he was in a disguise, it was stretching it quite a bit it was as if the man could sense that he wasn’t who he was pretending to be. Not to mention said man indulges such information to _Conan_.

 

_“Why is he still here?! What about what happened on the—”_

_“That never happened.”_ Kaito had blinked, taken aback at the adamant denial. _“He wasn’t there on the train, nor did you disguise as someone else other than your planned disguises. You canceled the heist when the bombing happened. But you never knew nor saw anyone who did it.”_ Kaito so wanted to pry, wanted to understand what was making the boy so terrified—it wasn’t the blonde man, even if tentative, Conan was wary of him, but _not afraid_.

When he spoke of the bombing it implied something else, and that was the source.

However, the boy tends to clamp up when they brush against this kind of topic. So Kaito lets it go, he couldn’t ascertain if he would open up to the boy about Snake and his men, after all.

 

Instead, they continued their meetings, each a run-away, a refuge of sorts, confiding yet not within one other. Becoming each other’s escape from the harsh truth of reality, no matter how temporarily.

But it was fine, while Kaito wanted the boy to understand—he understood enough, not only that he would only be adding to the detective’s worries. And the boy was already frustratingly paranoid enough, thank you very much.

 

Before either knew it, a month and a half had already passed. But neither minded, they were healing in the best way they possibly could in their situation, and after the continuous days of looming clouds. They felt that the sky had cleared up again and shone brightly.

 

Maybe the future wasn’t as dim as they had first thought.

 

…

 

He smirks, feeling the bubbly sensation of impending laughter threatening to spill from his lips. But he clamps his mouth just in time to keep it from pouring out. Staring down at the pretty birdie that immediately noted the stares drilling into him, as usual. Said bird looks around wary and paranoid, making sure that his company didn’t notice him jittering.

Slinking back into the background, the birdie’s eyes overlook him, even if he knew the general direction—but he knew the birdie wouldn’t see him until he wanted him to. Much like his nephew.

 

The birdie leaves soon enough, and he could see how the birdie kept glancing around. Uncertain whether or not the stares he felt targeted him or his nephew. He had ruffled the bird’s feathers, and he had watched his nephew for so long that his nephew wouldn’t even feel him staring unless he wanted to be found.

When the birdie disappears from sight, he pouts. His fun went away, he wasn’t allowed to clue in his nephew of his presence, especially _Sherry_ —she was _so sensitive_ it was hilarious when she grows hysteric and gets frozen with fear.

He wonders what sort of face his nephew would make when he presses a gun on his childhood friend’s face—he’d certainly paint a pretty picture.

 

 _Hmm… that was a thought_. He knew his nephew would do _anything_ to keep his childhood friend safe, not just her—everyone else, too. That was really something worth to think about.

 

Just then his phone vibrates lowly, fishing his phone out of his pocket, his curiosity perks seeing the new message. Tapping the icon, he skims through it drinking in and committing every word to his memory. He hisses excitedly, a short laugh slipping out.

He breathes in the cool night air, staring up at the dark windows of the Mouri’s residence in front of him. Licking his lips, he smirks.

 

 _Soon_. He decides, when the perfect moment arises soon enough, they will make their move, after all—

 

_It was time._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **(** I apologize for the delay… though not completely apologetic. Because instead of focusing, I was re-watching the **Tense Tea Party** ( **Episodes 770 - 771** ) plus the **Scarlet Revelation Arc** ( **Episodes 779 - 783** ) while typing this… thus, distracted.  
> Which was a side effect from re-watching the **Teimuzu River Kite Flying Case** ( **Episode 765 - 766** ) and other episodes.  
> Then I ended up watching **The Lost Ship in the Sky** ( **Movie 14** ), with my sisters looking over my shoulder at certain intervals… and my youngest sister just said (she’s six, turning seven this May.)
> 
>  
> 
> **  
> _“I only like Kid-kun (Kiddo-kun), because; #KidLikesConan.”_  
>  **
> 
>  
> 
> Isn’t that the best sister, or what?!
> 
> Yes, I do, in fact like the Fireworks scene in **Episode 76** , especially revising it, sue me. ( _No, really don’t. This is just a fanfiction_.)
> 
>  
> 
> **Until the next chapter~**  
>  **Adieu.**  
>  **— DescriptivePessimism-DAA)**


	7. VI: Proximity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wheels have been oiled and are turning. It's almost time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **(Do I have to?**  
>  I'm pretty sure you guys know the drill by now. ;)
> 
>  
> 
> **Warning!**
> 
>  
> 
> I'm the author... [ _Fear me._ ] **(=OwO=)**  
>  [ _Yes_ , that's actually a valid warning.]
> 
>  
> 
> **Read responsibly.**
> 
>  
> 
> **As always... _enjoy_.)**

 

> **|** **間近** **|**

 

Amuro sighs, pressing down on the accelerator as hints of Amuro, and Furuya bled away to make way for Bourbon, he slows to a corner and expectedly the passenger door opens and Vermouth gets on, as soon as she shuts the door, he is driving again.

Both allowed the silence that enveloped between them before he takes a peek at her face.

 

“You look troubled, did something happen?” she almost expectedly snorts.

 

“There has never been a time when there isn’t anything going on the Organization, Bourbon.” she drawls. “And you know that.”

 

“Of course, but it also stands that you are anxious by what is to come. Care to share?” he had expected her to jab back, or even evade the question. He had not expected the resigned sigh.

 

“The fact that you do not know even now tells me enough.” _that_ makes him tense. There was something about her words.

“Make a right here.” he blinks, it was rare for her to give him orders, but he makes the turn nonetheless, however, Furuya and Amuro inside him were almost ready to break out, this was getting dangerous. Had she found out that he was a NOC, after all? Though, with how her own actions bordered on treachery, she really couldn’t keep herself safe enough.

However, there was also the fact that if ever it was revealed that they were both traitors to the organization, only she would still live to tell the tale between them.

“Stop here.” he narrows his eyes, mentally already picturing the map in his head, as his eyes scanned the darkened dead-end, next to them was a port. And this was usually where the Organization went when going about their way disposing of the traitors. Well, not this exact location, but places like these. And he wonders if Vermouth has been sent to get rid of him.

However, he doesn’t tense, nor does he give any indication that he was the one they wished to get rid of. Reacting would just reveal his standing.

 

“Is there any reason why you brought us here, Vermouth?” he speaks, sensing that she really wasn’t about to say anything if he let it be. It wasn’t really helping his nerves, this woman could just easily fake her death—something rang a bell in his mind that he had to force it back, he didn’t have time for a hypothesis as of now. He needed to ensure he survived, he knew that if he died the information and system on his phone would send all of the data he saved in it to the PSB headquarters, however, as it is, he couldn’t afford to be taken out so early in the game.

This woman could survive _anything_. Someone could drop a bomb on them right here and now, but she would still live, and that alone frustrated him.

 

“Bourbon, you…” she trails off, giving him a scrutinizing stare down. He merely hums in response, silently prompting her to continue. There was something about what she said that made something in the back of his mind itch, but he decides to compartmentalize and capitalize on that _later_. She apparently changed her mind, and she leans back to her seat and staring straight ahead.

“Forget it, drive.” Bourbon was hit with the temptation to pry, but he doesn’t. His curiosity wasn’t worth the risk of being exposed, so he drives turning around from the secluded port.

 

It was only they were halfway on the way back to the base did he realize it, that place—the fact that Vermouth had no qualms on mentioning anything incriminating against her—was uncharted in the organization.

 

Keeping that in mind, he snaps both Amuro and Furuya to the darkest recess of his mind and keeps Bourbon on the forefront. They were being called back; the Organization was on the move.

 

Whatever it was that Rum saw, _That Person_ had found intriguing.

-

It wasn’t just _Rum_.

 

The member that he first thought was new, was actually a ghost member of the organization. The man stood in front of all of them, a twisted wide, sickening toothy grin on his face. However, the man was half inside the shadows, face obscured.

 

“I’m glad that we could all meet up~” he drawls, and Bourbon holds back a shudder. There was something about this man that made his skin crawl, something that vaguely reminded him of someone.

Gin growled lowly off to the side but remained quiet.

 

He sensed Vermouth slide next to him, her voice very low as she whispered.

“If Rum is the advisor, and I, the favorite. _He_ is the Shadow Puppet, you won’t know he exists until he wants you to… and he won’t let you know until he's told.” Furuya nearly breaks off the mental binds, because _this man is even more dangerous then_.

Favored Organization Members closest to the heart of the high caliber were nothing to scoff at.

 

What unnerved him was the sense of pure _sinister insanity_ he could feel emanating from the man, even though the man was a few meters away from him. Not that such distance matter much, not in this Organization. Not only that, Gin, and Korn seemed to recognize the man and gave anyone else that wanted to react, a sign to stop.

While Gin is a cold-blooded killer, he was rational. Bourbon eyes the man in front of them again, trying to place whatever it was that was setting off the warning bells in his head.

 

 _Something oddly familiar_ about this man.

 

The man’s head moved in the shadows, dipping low and looking around the room, some low members—likely newly recruited—stepping back, but he stood his ground when he felt the man’s gaze study him next, tightened Furuya back in, and letting the unnerving mix of both Amuro and Bourbon to reign in.

(He noted how one NOC of the MI5 reacted with a near silent gasp, and the man’s smirk had _twitched_.

That NOC would soon be taken care of.)

 

Then deliberately, the man makes eye contact with him and _smirks_.

 

Something _clicks,_ and the persistent twinge from earlier slams into him in realization.

 

…

 

“Bye, Ran-neechan!” Conan runs down the street giving Ran an exaggerated wave.

 

“Be safe, and try not to get into too much trouble, Conan-kun!” Ran calls back to him, and she smiles when the boy beams up at her from the distance, sighing in relief the moment he disappears from her line of sight.

 

Ran knew that Conan was a highly perceptive kid, he came home after dinner from the Professors the day after she put things behind Shin’ichi, he took one glance at her and his smile had dropped slowly into concern. He had opened his mouth to ask, likely noticing the slight traces of the redness from her eyes that she swore shouldn’t even be noticeable, but thankfully something had cued him in to not ask. So, she simply welcomed him home and turned around, seeing how her father nodded proudly and ruffled the boy’s hair in gratitude.

Truly, she was grateful to both of them, and of course, she was grateful to this new friend the Professor had talked to her about—when the kids let it slip that Conan didn’t actually spend the whole day with them at the Professors. Conan had been feeling down lately, and she couldn’t really try to cheer him up while she was worried sick about Shin’ichi, and seeing their uncanny resemblance was something she didn’t want Conan to deal with on top of his own melancholy. But this new person had, and that was enough for her.

 

Thought she really hoped that one day, Conan would introduce this new friend of his to her.

 

…

 

_‘Brace yourself for this journey._

_A race against time, chasing not to drown,_

_Alice trips and falls down._

_Under the shade,_

_She finds the sparkling jade._

_Find the key,_

_And you shall see._

_What wonders the world is blind to heed.’_

 

Conan sighs looking around the fairly crowded park, it had the clock from the “time,” a timer automated sprinkler and fountain from the “drown” thus water, but it was likely not this one. Thinking back on the riddle, he blinks remembering the mention of “chase” and “Alice.”

 

Conan grins, setting off to the next possible location the riddle had dictated. Upon reaching the park, he thinks back on the few beginning lines and promptly looks around for the likely hiding spot, finding the only tree that could house a rabbit hole he rushes to it, unearthing a small dark oak brown chest that had jade linings—though upon closer inspection told him that the jade linings were made of resin. Squinting at the keyhole, he looks around the park, then on the tree scanning it from the leaves to its branches—and he remembers that Kai said _Alice_ _tripped_.

So, he redirects his eyes to the spreading thick roots, looking for anything that stood out—ah, _there_.

 

Smirking, he removes the small smooth rock that actually looked natural next to one of the tree’s twisting branches, if not for the fact that it was the only one that had a greyer shade than the others that looked faded to the elements.

Sure enough, there was a small key with a jade resin handle underneath it.

 

Wiping the dirt of the key, he gently plunges it in the keyhole, minding not to accidentally break the handcrafted chest—beautifully if he says so himself, he was keeping this. Inside were two round lemon flavored candies—as if representing gold coins, a black origami clover, and a card.

 

_‘Up and down, Alice went,_

_The witch’s shoes were sent._

_Fly off the ground,_

_And walk on the sky._

_I was just simply passing by._

_Why don’t you join me this time 'round?’_

 

He nearly doubles over in laughter, but he puts the key in his coin purse, securely pocketing that—putting the objects back in the chest, and placing that gently in his bag. _Journey_ implied an adventure, and the kids had lamented enough that one could not go on an adventure without carrying something. Knowing Kai, who gallivanted as _Kid_ at night, he likely had the same mindset.

(Seeing as the two previous potential locations of this riddle alone, all with the dummy chest that each had a chocolate and strawberry candy and a message of: _‘Nice try but try again, Shin-kun! ;)’_ —there was no doubting it.)

 

Knowing exactly where Kai wanted to meet up, he sets off to Ginza.

-

Kaito smiles, he had Tama-chan follow the detective around, as the boy went about solving the riddle. To be honest, he had three more locations that had the dummy chests, but the boy only went to three of them, had smirked and went to the actual destination, the two other locations also had a rabbit statue in it, but it seemed that Shin had known it was that one.

And he was right. Plus, _jade_ , should have also been obvious enough, seeing as the other dummy chests had an opal-imitation on their linings.

 

He grins when the boy sprints past the café he’s in—and as expected from the boy’s likely soccer expertise, he had such stamina! The boy had reached the intersection where he pulled his teleportation heist for the **Purple Nail**. He watches with a close eye as the boy looks around the intersection, disappearing around the corner that Kaito wonders if the detective missed him completely.

He shouldn’t have called Tama-chan back—

 

“You know, Alice in Wonderland and the Wizard of Oz weren’t related. Not to mention, the Purple Nail had a 100-karat amethyst embedded to it, _not_ rubies as the witch’s shoes that were indicated in the story.” Kaito smirks, turning around to the sly detective that had likely just rounded the small alleyways around the shop and entered while he was distracted.

Damn, the brat was using his own tricks against him.

“Not to mention, you did not walk on the sky on that heist—it was during the _Blue Wonder_ heist that you did. You simply walked on the side of the building, if you call that pulley-system _walking_ , that is.”

 

“I see that you also used my diversion plan. While you snuck up from behind—like a true phantom, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re training to be one.” Shin scoffs.

 

“As if. Even detectives have to learn a thing or two about diversion, you never know when it’ll come in handy.” the little detective shrugs and Kaito is hit with the urge to hug the boy.

Tantei-kun really had no idea how cute he’s being,

 

“You truly are extraordinary! Always prepared! As expected of my Tantei-kun!” _Oh_ ~? Was _that_ a _blush_?

 

“Lower your voice, Kid!” the boy hisses— _ah_ , that _makes sense_. The waitress sent a curious look their way. If it got out to the public that the detective was meeting him outside of heists, it wouldn’t be good for either of them and especially the detective.

(Not to mention, Snake and his goons would surely hear of it, and such unwanted attention was something that should be avoided at all costs.)

-

Conan grumbles under his breath, giving the thief a dry glare even as the other made a sheepish laugh and gestured for him to take the other seat.

 _When did I become_ his _Tantei-kun?_

 

Shaking the thoughts away, willing the heat rising to his cheeks to go down. He takes the offered seat and watches with a hint of amusement as the teen makes a show of theatric gestures covering his portion of the table. A napkin covers the spot, and when the teen pulls it away in its place is a steaming cup of coffee and a slice of strawberry shortcake.

 

“Showing off?” he cocks a brow, and as usual the magician feigns being wounded.

 

“Who, _me_? I’d _never_.” Conan smirks.

 

“Well, this one was better than the one last time.” Kai pouts at him.

 

“Oh, come on! You cheated!”

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 

“Why you…” Kai the smirks, _he didn’t have a good feeling about this._ “ _Excuse us, miss! I think there’s been a mix-up!_ ”

 

“Hey! I’m kidding! I’m sorry, _come on_ , Kai. Don’t!”

 

…

 

"Seriously?" Kaito grins as the detective pouts—no matter how much he insists it’s a scowl—and grunts almost petulantly at him. "May I remind you that I likely set the cops on your tail for what was likely hours on that heist?" Kaito scoffs because no way was he admitting that.

 

" _Pssh_ , as if." the detective smirks.

 

"Liar." Shin shrugs at him. “But hey, you tased me, that was only fair.” Kaito chokes.

 

“Oh my _god…_ I’m really sorry! About that—!"

 

…

 

“Say, Tantei-kun… on a scale of one to ten, how are you likely to try and solve Kichiemon’s puzzles?" Conan blinks up at the lounging thief next to him. Looking down at the almost ant-sized people on the streets.

 

“Well, that mansion of his was certainly fun."

 

“I’m sorry, Tantei-kun… but I _swear_ you and your friends were nearly torn to _shreds_?"

 

" _Exactly_."

 

" _Excuse me?!_ "

 

“You may be excused."

 

" _Haha..._ funny."

 

"Oh come on! It wasn’t that bad! Also, there was this relatively safe one. His warehouse."

 

"Uh-huh, say, would your Ran-neechan kick me if I wrap you in a bubble wrap?"

 

“Oi…"

 

“What~? I have _one_ right here."

 

“Where did you… No! Don’t even think about it! Ran might just hug you for it—but I sure as hell won't!"

 

“Oh come on! I’m sure it won’t be that—”

 

_Pssh. Click. Click. Click...!_

"—Erk! Now, now… let’s all calm down, Tantei-kun..."

 

"Kid?"

 

“… Y-yes?"

 

**_"Run."_ **

 

…

 

“Tantei-kun…” Conan sheepishly looks up at the pouting teen clad in white.

 

“I’m sorry…? There was a case, and I couldn’t leave it alone…?" was it just him, or did Kai’s pout just became more pronounced?

 

"You could have caught up…"

 

“The police had to take my testimony… I’ll make sure to be there for the next one?"

 

“Why do you sound so unsure just now…"

 

“I promise to make it up to you on the next one…"

 

“Oh, _don’t_ _worry_ … I’ll _make_ _sure_ you _will_."

 

"…"

 

…

 

It would have surprised him if he didn’t feel the other teen sneak up behind him.

"Say, Shin-tantei… how much do you know about dolls, gemstones, and curses?"

 

“… _What_?" Kai smirks.

-

“When I said I’d make it up to you, I didn’t mean _abetting_!!!"

 

"Oh, come on, don’t be so uptight!"

 

“Attending your heist is different from becoming your accomplice!"

 

“Well, I had to do something to make sure you come to the next one!"

 

" _What?!_ And _abetting_ is your solution?!"

 

" _Well_ , you wouldn’t want to see your part of hard work fail… and surely you’d like to see it in action… right?"

 

"…"

 

“Hook, line and sinker~"

 

" _Shut up! You don’t actually say that out loud!_ "

 

“Hey! No need for the soccer balls— _Tantei-kun!_ "

 

_"Stay still and face me like a man!"_

…

 

Saguru blinks looking at his friend’s pouting face.

 

“So… he didn’t agree to it?"

 

“No… he did." a slow blink, then another.

 

“What’s with the long face then?"

 

" _Tantei-kun_ is so mean!" Hakuba sighs, groaning lowly—knowing that it’s about Edogawa threatening Kaito with another soccer ball sized bruises. _Again._

And he half tunes out the rambling, he’ll tune in when it’s time for the contingency plan. Mentally compartmentalizing it that Kaito convinced  _Edogawa_ , of all people, to help him out on a heist, without the boy even knowing about Kid's more darker fans.

 

…

 

Conan groans then bemoaned the fact that he had a hand in this riddle’s creation due to a certain thief’s persistent pleading. Practically wrestling him into cooperation—no matter how coerced it may be. He doesn’t even make a show of solving the heist in front of others—because that would be completely unfair, seeing as he did handle most of the theory behind it. And it was also just the police’s luck that Hakuba decided to sit this one heist out, claiming that he had something to take care of.

( _Be somewhere else, for the contingency plan_. _Just in case things go south._ )

He studies the pre-placed traps, then how Inspector Nakamori bellows orders at his men to move, and which points of the location to guard. It was really easy to deduce the formations. He jumps, steering the guard that almost triggered a trap in his hurry, without him even realizing it.

Heaving a relieved sigh, he looks around the place, taking note of where everyone is.

 

This heist would be set earlier this evening since Ran didn’t want him out so late—though, since she knows it’s a heist night, it wouldn’t be a surprise if he actually does come home later than planned. She was somehow too edgy and jump earlier, shoving that thought away for now, he watches closely, ready to spring and move about to silently, steer wandering guards away from the set traps lest they go off prematurely. Not that he really needed to do it as much.

He watches closely as the keeper carefully displays the targeted gem’s post.

 

 _A doll_ … he shudders, remembering what he and Kai just discussed, and when he first saw the life-sized child doll that looked too much like him for it to be comfortable.

 

Boxing up those memories, he keeps an eye on the appraiser—who gently places the infamous ‘ _Hope_ _Diamond,’_ or as the current collector _fondly_ dubbed it as the; _Heart of Death_.

Draping the lengthened chain around the dolls ball jointed neck, and letting it rest on the silken-felt covered cushion on its lap. When the man moves away from the display, he couldn’t stop his eyes from trailing up to meet the doll’s dead-looking, glassy blue eyes. Looking unseeingly at the far wall.

He inwardly despairs at how Kai has obviously infected his view on this doll, as much as he didn’t want to believe in the _supernatural._ The doll truly was off-setting.

 

Seeing nothing off about the doll, nor its post, he surveys the room once again, taking note of every nook and cranny. The habitual motions of the people around him—

Did someone just go out using the fire exit?

 

_Don’t tell me…_

 

He only caught the tail end of the person.

 

_Is it **Them**? But why would they be here?_

 

He swore that whoever that was wore a dark-colored trench coat just like—

 

**_“Everything okay, Tantei-kun?”_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **(Things are _finally_ moving…** well, progressing to the next stuff. And I swear… I would have finished this sooner if not for the other plot bunnies getting hyped up.  
> Not to mention, I was distracted by the many, many movies… and spur ideas or revival of ideas from re-watching episodes of Detective Conan. [ _Which resulted in re-awakening the plot bunnies that were also from months ago—maybe even years ago, but younger-me didn’t have enough sense or confidence in her knowledge to try it—and making them all hyper as if they just took a healthy dose of caffeine or got sugar rush._ ]
> 
> ( _Also, plot bunnies are not normal bunnies. They wouldn’t die so easily… they’re **monsters**._)
> 
> Also~ just watched Avengers the End Game. I’d say something about it… but there might be poor souls that haven’t watched it yet, so everyone, do be considerate!
> 
>  
> 
> **Until the next chapter~**  
>  **Adieu.**  
>  **—DescriptivePessimism-DAA)**


	8. VII: Our Heist (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **(You guys know the drill.**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **  
> **  
> **Warning!**  
>   
> 
> **I'm the author... [ _Fear me._ ] **(=OwO=)**  
> **  
>  [ _Yes_ , that's actually a valid warning.]
> 
>  
> 
> **Read responsibly.**
> 
>  
> 
> **  
> **  
> **As always... _enjoy_.)**  
> 

 

> **|** **俺たちのヘイスト** **|**

 

Conan glares at the grinning phantom thief in front of him.

 

“You brought me to this restricted area of this Tsukiyama-whatever guy’s collection house to do, _what_ exactly?”

 

“I wanted to show you something.” Kai smiles at him, almost manhandling him towards some display case.

“I present to you, Hans Beller’s one and only that he kept hidden, a male doll as his representation of death!” Conan turns his head to the gestured case, already making skeptical remarks on the thief’s claims.

 

“Hans? That German artist? But I’m pretty sure he only created female dolls, not to mention in grote—” he trails off, blinking as he stares at the doll in front of him.

 

As Kai had said it was a male doll, and as according to the famed creator’s works, in a way it was somewhat grotesque—or more accurately, morbid with the idea it’s supposed to back. It was beautifully made compared to the man’s famed artworks, instead of one that looked like mutations, this one was a complete pre-pubescent child that looked so empty it was reflected in the glassy blue eyes that looked like it glowed against the doll’s deathly white skin. A mop of curling black hair framing his face delicately. The skin a nice contrast against his dark, old fashion clothing—but that wasn’t what made him trail off.

No, it was the fact that the doll—

 

“He looks like you, Tantei-kun! Is there _something_ you’re _keeping_ from me?” Kai says not offensively but in a teasing manner. “I’m almost inclined to believe that Death mistook you for this one.” he splutters at the thief. “But decided to follow you around because you’re more interesting~” he winks.

 

“Don’t say that!”

 

“But anyways, my next target is going to be exhibited in a week for three days… and according to my reliable source, this doll will serve as an additional post for the gem. The collector said it would be its guardian—so, here I ask, are you going to guard the gem and _this doll_ that looks so much like you. As if it’s just waiting for the chance to change places with you?” the thief chuckles, grinning at him almost smugly, and he glares at the grinning thief.

But reluctantly looks back at the doll, almost feeling like the doll was looking down at him from its position.

 

He sighs, shoving thoughts of anything ludicrous and supernatural out of his mind, he asks.

“And… what am I supposed to do?”

 

Kai grins widely.

 

…

 

_‘On the mountainous’ final draw of breath,_

_After the seven moons halo mark._

_From its haunted wreath,_

_I shall steal the alluring lady’s heart._

_Before the night comes to a pass._

_—Kaitou Kid’_

 

Conan groans, from Kid Killer he had turned into Kid’s Assistant. Even if it’s just for this heist—though knowing Kai, who knows how much the other teen would stretch that. Give him an inch and he turns that into a mile; ever the opportunist he is.

But nonetheless the note was out, when the Detective Boys turned to him and asked if he solved it already, he only gave them a cryptic message—it wouldn’t be fair to them since he already knew. And made his escape from them as soon as possible.

Haibara sent a weird knowing, insinuating smirk his way—and upon askance she gave a nonchalant smug shrug accompanied with _“Nothing.”_ that for a moment he was hit with a feeling of déjà vu, but he shrugged that off and went on his way to meet up with Kai.

 

They _do_ need to work on their supposedly collaborated traps—and well, Conan was interested to actually learn something from the thief. Deducing how it’s done _after_ its triggered, it's a whole another thing to set it up.

Besides, who knows when this type of skill would come in handy.

-

“So, Tantei-kun—”

 

“What the hell, don’t call me _Tantei-kun_ while we’re doing this. Are you trying to get me in trouble?!”

 

“Right, _sorry_ … what should I call you then, _Tantei-kun_?”

 

“ _Ugh_ …”

 

“Oh? I can call you Cona—”

 

“ _Kid_ , shut up and set up the wires. Just talk and I’ll hand it to you.”

 

“As you wish, your Majesty~”

 

_“Why do I put up with this…”_

 

…

 

“Why is there a kid here?!” the undercover detective and thief turn slowly to the enraged collector—whose name they both couldn’t be bothered to remember, Tsukiyama-something. Abruptly, yet expectedly, the man grabs Conan by the scruff of his uniform—the boy making strangled noises as he felt the floor leave under his feet, and himself dangle uncomfortably mid-air.

Kai stands up with a posture of someone sincerely apologetic.

 

“I’m really sorry, sir. But my parents left on some urgent business, and no one could look after him. I promise you he won’t be any trouble for the setup.” the man growls, but accepts it, harshly dropping the boy—almost throwing him on the ground.

 

“He better not be.” they both watched as the man turned on his heel and leave them alone.

 

“It’s already the third day… how unobservant…” Kai remarks bluntly with a mix of amusement and disappointed look.

 

“Technically, on the first day, we were sneaking around—so no one could have seen us stop being unreasonable. So it’s actually the second we’ve been doing this.”

 

“Tantei-kun… shut up. You don’t want to grow up like a prick like Hakuba.”

 

_“What?”_

 

…

 

“Ahhh! Conan-kun’s going off on his own again!” Ayumi exclaims with a skeptical pout, and as if they rehearsed it the remaining two members of the Detective Boys followed her lead. Haibara simply crossed her arms and smirked at him from the sidelines—despite the fact he had glanced at her frantically in silent askance for aid, which she of course ignored. _Witch_.

 

“Indeed, it’s almost like there’s something Conan-kun doesn’t want us to know…” Mitsuhiko follows, narrowing his eyes—to the side, he spies Haibara snorting silently, he was tempted to glare at her. But with the kids staring down at him intently that was obviously a bad idea.

 

“Ah, no, it’s not like that…” _technically, it was_. _Just not the reason they think._

 

“Could it be…” Genta starts theatrically. “…you’re investigating a case, aren’t you?!” the kids let out an affronted gasp in sync, glaring at him. Exclaiming how unfair it is for him to hog all the attention again.

 

“Like, I said, it’s not like that!”

 

“ _Really?_ ” Ayumi scowls, and Conan could see how she’s getting jealous with his time away from them.

 

“Really… the son of a friend of my mom met with me by chance, and he decided he wanted to get to know me. He’s not here for long.” _that_ might not be the best excuse, and judging from Haibara expression she thought the same. And he resisted the urge to facepalm.

 

It seems like he would be late… _Kai wouldn’t like this_.

-

 _He didn’t_.

Conan laughs lightly and half-heartedly at Kai’s pouting face.

 

“You’re late, _Meitantei_.” _Wow_ , _he was touchy_.

 

“The kids delayed me, be mature. _Please_.” Kai pouted the whole duration of their set up—though the occasional muffled snicker told him he was forgiven.

 

…

 

“So, we’re going to the heist site early—but my question is, _how_ early exactly?” Conan looks up at the Phantom Thief, who hums contemplatively.

 

“Three hours preferably before the Division Two arrives.” Conan twitches.

 

“Impossible.” he says bluntly. Kai grins with a nod.

 

“That’s why you’re setting up your part tonight, I’ll go over it tomorrow, then you can come three hours before the heist.”

 

“Why am I doing this again?”

 

"Now, don’t be like that Tantei-kun. I’ll be there with you tonight!” Conan sighs as the magician disappears.

-

As promised the other teen did show up. Though he let Conan set up the traps he wished, only putting in his inputs on how likely it would be spotted, or which spot would be advantageous for such traps—which likely would cause harm and which wouldn’t—aside from wounded pride. Most of which Conan knew— _physics_ —but it was nice hearing the other teen teach so enthusiastically, despite his whispering.

 

A few more traps here and there and Conan is finished with his part. While he was feeling sorry that he sided with the thief, he had to admit it was exhilarating to set them up. And according to Kai, it would be just as fun—if not, even more, to watch it go off as it snared the unfortunate soul.

Now, they’re walking at a relaxed pace towards the Mouri Agency, chatting amicably as they went. The moment he reached the bottom of the stairs, he turns to the thief.

 

“I guess… it was actually fun. Thanks.” Kai grins at him, making an exaggerated gentlemanly-showman bow.

 

“And I thank you, for your cooperation, Shin-kun.” Conan allows the light smile on his face to morph into a smirk, arching a brow in a silent challenging taunt. Of course, the thief doesn’t disappoint—he returns the gesture with an answering smirk and slight narrowing of his eyes.

Snorting, he just says.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Kai.” the teen nods at him.

 

“You too…” he was about to go up the stairs when Kai suddenly adds. “… oh and, Shin? Call me, Kaito.” even without turning around he knew Kai— _Kaito_?—had already left, and there was also the fact that the other teen didn’t wait for his response—though considering it… the thief just gave _him_ access to his first name, without even expecting anything in return.

Not with how the other teen quickly made himself scarce. Not with how Conan was actually ready to respond with his own first name at the tip of his tongue, but the sight of an empty street stopped him.

 

(He’s sure that Kai— _Kaito_ , was still nearby, and could probably hear him if he spoke loud enough—but he didn’t want to risk it. He could risk being exposed as Kudou Shin’ichi. And he wonders if he is ready to reveal that much to his friend.

 

But, until Kai confirms it himself tomorrow that he actually wants him to call him, _‘Kaito’_ and that it wasn’t just a short term lapse of judgment. He would still be _Kai_ to Shin—to _Shin’ichi._ )

 

…

 

On the day of the heist, Conan observed the heist site four hours before the scheduled heist time. It was close to the appointed time of the heist, less than an hour left—when he swore he saw someone go out of the room towards the fire exit, only managing to catch the tail-end of a dark-colored coat.

 

_Is it **Them**? But why would they be here?_

 

He was about to make chase when a familiar whisper brings him back to reality.

 

 _“Everything okay, Tantei-kun?”_ he spins around to face Kaito— _Kai_ , who is disguised as a police officer, slightly crouching down as if to talk to the famed Kid Killer in concern. Though from the slight narrowing of his eyes and furrow of his brows, Conan could tell he was actually genuinely worried. _But if it were Them_ , he couldn’t drag Kaito into it. So he shakes his head instead.

 

“Yes, everything’s okay. Nothing wrong.” Kai’s eyes narrowed, and he inwardly swore, insisting like that might have been too suspicious, but he ignores the thief as he tried to make another inquiry. Kai had to be aware, after all.

 

“ _Really_?” but of course, having longer legs, Kait— _Kai_ , caught up to him way too soon.

 

“Yeah, everything’s fine, K…ai.” he winces at the obvious hesitation in his voice. The thief blinks, before saying.

 

“Is it because I said my name last name? Told you to call me _Kaito_?” well, not exactly his concern today, but also a concern—for another whole different matter, but Kai opened that up all on his own.

 

“Why did you even say that?” Kai sighs.

 

“I mean it, Shin. Call me Kaito.” he couldn’t stop the splutter, but Kaito did. “You don’t have to tell me your name now, I’m telling you because I _want_ to.” _You can tell me when you’re ready_. Conan swore his breath hitched, this might have been the most earnest expression of the Phantom Thief he’d seen.

He nods, but before he could reply, Nakamori had apparently noticed that apparently one of his men was slacking off, and ordered the disguised Kid to go back to his post.

“Well, that’s my cue. See you on the roof, _Shin-kun!_ ” the thief winks before responding to the inspector curtly and rushing to his post as if fearing for his job. Leaving a blinking Conan in his wake.

 

“ _Idiot thief_.” Conan mutters, looking around the heist site once more. He didn’t want to get caught on one of the traps, so he needed a vantage point. He blinks, seeing a small window almost on the ceiling, thinking back on the blueprints Kaito showed him, he smirks. With a last glance at the bellowing inspector, he makes his way to the fire exit. Making sure to make himself as small as possible, watching every inch of the dim lit place as he made his way to the spot in mind.

He glares at every single detail, keeping in mind that he was truly sure that _someone_ did come through here.

 

Seeing no one, he slowly slinked under a couple of boxes on the dimmed corner, crouching down to peer through the small window. Eyeing how each Taskforce member littered around the floor, also keeping an eye Kaito, while keeping an ear out for the strange man he saw.

There were only ten more minutes before Kaito would make an appearance as Kid, and during the countdown, he looks back around himself. The metallic stairs encased in shadows were a looming difference to the ruckus inside. Seeing no change, he switches his attention back to the heist just as the yelling countdown reached zero. And the inside exploded in vibrant pink smoke.

 

 _“Ladies and Gentlemen! I thank you for coming this evening.”_ Kid was now on top of the glass case that held the doll and his target.

 

 _“KID! You won’t get away with this! Get him!!!”_ of course, Nakamori started yelling, ordering officers to scramble and catch the flashy thief.

 

 _“Oh, lively aren’t we, Nakamori-keibu? But well… I did some adjustments tonight, I hope you enjoy the show.”_ Conan could see the curious looks of some people inside, fans screaming outside of the building. With a snap of his hand, Conan almost winced when _his_ trap is triggered ensnaring a good handful of Nakamori’s men, suspending them mid-air, with bright glittery blue ribbons.

As if it was the instigator, the other traps flew off too—some of them only having the time to let out surprised yelps before they were tangled in place, or silenced by some sleeping gas. All the whilst Kid ran around the place, dodging each and every attempt of capture the officers did around him, also leading them to the traps they both have preset. Though he saw the teen lay down some recent one to take care of the few lucky ones—or unlucky ones, depending on how you look at it—

 

His attention snaps away from the colorful heist to the stairs that coiled up having heard a sharp noise of metal hitting against metal. And from how it echoed, it was likely that it was from something solid being slammed against the metallic staircase. Once more, he is reminded of that person he saw, glancing reluctantly at the happenings at the heist, he makes up his mind.

He’ll just make it up to Kaito next time.

 

With that thought in mind, he slips out of his hiding spot, before silently going up the stairs to investigate.

 

…

 

Kaito had to stop himself from frowning, when Shin had left the building in favor of the fire exit, he had thought the worse that there was actually something wrong and the detective decided to take care of it by his lonesome. He was already ready to cancel the heist and catch up to the detective when he felt the detective’s stare wash over him, and he was dearly tempted to sigh in relief.

Apparently, the detective took his advice to be a spectator and even chose himself a perch to have the VIP box to watch the heist. Well, Kaito couldn’t help but feel flattered, only partly because this was his and Tantei-kun’s heist—it was only fair when both he and Hakuba had worked on several others, even with Hakuba participating in the heist.

 

So, he decides to make it an even more enjoyable time for his little detective, thus as soon as the counter his zero—he made sure it was as extravagant as always, less smoke bombs so the detective could see how the traps coiled and snapped around their prey. Even making sure to set a back-up trap for those that escaped the first trap.

But then, he felt the detective’s presence leave—snapping on Kid’s Poker Face he kept smirking as he set off more traps to keep the Taskforce and the Inspector in place.

 

Leaping back up on the case, swiping the gem from the gap he had installed. Showing the gem in his hands, much to the Inspector’s muffled protests.

 

“As promised, I have certainly acquired **_Death’s Heart_**.” he smirks for his fans’ loud shrieks, as he easily distracts them with a few gestures while slipping the gem inside his inner left breast pocket, as usual.

 

“I hope you all have enjoyed tonight’s show!” he bows, and the fans cheered, even the ones outside. While he might have rushed the ending, he needed to get to his detective, but before that, he had to make sure none of the Taskforce nor his fans loitered around or followed him.

Triggering the smoke bombs around the case, he shoots the specialized diamond-tipped cards to the window glass, forcing it open—before he lets the escape dummy glide away and into the night. Still, under the cover of the bright pink smoke, he switches into a non-descript disguise already making his way to the door that Tantei-kun was looking at earlier.

He allows some Taskforce members to get loosened—who immediately snaps up and frees their colleagues, the inspector leading them after the dummy. The fans also dispersing.

 

He swore he saw Snake or one of his men flicker out of his vision towards the exit. The fact that the detective caught eye of that was worrying. He had to make sure the little detective didn’t get involved in his mess out of curiosity and some sense of justice.

 

…

 

 _“… is our assignment! How dare you get in our way!”_ Conan pressed himself behind the humming metal wall of the generator, trying to get visual on the two men on the roof.

 

 _“Are you questioning the Boss’ orders? If so, feel free to take this up with him, Snake. You are re-assigned, this is my work.”_ another voice responded calmly to the frustrated raging one.

 

 _Snake? A codename_ … _is it really **Them?** Then a new recruit? Or…_ he silences his thoughts for now, keeping his attention on his surroundings and the arguing men—he couldn’t let a repeat with his first encounter with Gin and Vodka happen after all.

 

 _“Your next assignment will be here, **he** told me to handle this. Now, off you go.”_ the calm one adds smugly. The other man clicks his tongue before leaving—using the smaller fire exit as he did so, and Conan had to press himself against the metal even further to keep himself from getting spotted. He had a brief time of indecision to follow the man—but that would be detrimental, seeing as the other man was still on the roof.

When he was certain the temperamental man had likely gone far, he switches his attention to the other man, whose back was turned to him, facing the bright moon. Humming a familiar song—

 

 _Seven Children?_ Conan tenses, feeling his breath shorten, but he keeps himself silent, making sure not to glare at the man far too long. Lest he gives himself away.

 

“Soon… we’ll be able to reach it.” the man says before he continues on silently humming—taking the same exit his colleague did.

 

When he couldn’t hear the man making his way down, his legs give away underneath him.

 

 _The man was humming the Seven Children song—coincidence? No, such coincidence does not exist. But he hadn’t heard of any update from Kir or the FBI. Was this man a new recruit? No, from their conversation alone, this man seemed like someone of Vermouth’s caliber. And_ that _wasn’t_ a comforting thought. Steeling his nerves, he slowly stands up.

This wasn’t good, they know almost nothing about this man—from his wording alone, he seemed like someone awfully loyal to the Organization. Close to _That Person_.

He couldn’t risk following them, then have _Kid—Kaito_ follow him, it was bad enough that they used this building as the place to meet up. Was this just an exchange of words? Or were they after someone in the same building? Was it him? Or was it someone else?

—not to mention, there was that other operative, _Snake_. An animal, another branch maybe? _That wasn’t a fun thought_ , this Organization already had international connections, it wasn’t comforting for them to be this widespread, or considering that they might have branches composed of other codenames. That would make them almost impossible to round up…

 

“Or could _Snake_ mean another thing entirely?” he wonders because if he recalled correctly there was a type of alcohol that was called—

 

 _“Where did you hear that?”_ he jolts, spinning around to face Kid— _Kaito_ , why did he look so— “ _Shin_ , where did you hear that?” the other teen suddenly demands, almost _angry_?

 

Wait, could he be?

 

“I…” he tries to speak, but his voice trails off, what if he was wrong? He would be dragging Kaito into his mess—but Kaito recognizes the name. Were they after Kid, after all? Then that wasn’t good, they were likely after the first Kaitou Kid. _Damnit_ , _was Kaito painting a target on himself?!_

 

“Shin, where did you hear that name?!” the other teen demands angrily—yes, he is. But he couldn’t have Kaito involved, from the conversation he just overheard, Snake wouldn’t be bothering him anymore, but the other guy would be just as dangerous, if not more.

 

“That doesn’t matter,” he says because it _doesn’t_. He needed to get in contact with Akai _fast_ , there was someone on the move. Someone they knew nothing about, having no information, in this case, was dangerous for everyone involved. Not to mention, he had to get Kid _away_ from here. The other member was likely lurking around if Snake was reassigned—that meant they gave it to someone else.

Not having any information was something he couldn’t be comfortable with.

“Kaito, you have to leave. I—” he was about to turn around, make a call—maybe track down that operative, but Kaito obviously had other plans.

 

“ _No_ , Tantei-kun. _It does matter!”_ Conan chokes, not expecting the other teen to grasp his shoulder and shake him a bit. _Yes,_ Kid was livid.

 

“At the moment, it does _not_!” he ignores how the other’s hands tightened almost painfully around his shoulders. “You have to listen; _you_ need to leave now.” Why did Kaito even come up here as _Kaitou Kid_? He’ll stand out way too much especially if there are snipers involved.

 

“No, it’s _you_ who doesn’t understand! It matters to me! Now, where did you hear that name?” Kaito was crouching, holding him in place.

 

“That’s none of your business—!” _Shit_.

 

“None of my—” the thief laughs, letting him go—but he didn’t feel relieved that the thief did. “Is that why you left mid-heist? Because you needed to snoop around? Needed to look up some things about me? How far did you get?” _Damnit_ , he was being illogical—how did he even reach that conclusion?

 

“Stop jumping into conclu—”

 

“ _No_ , you’re also jumping into conclusions, _Meitantei_.” he flinches, reminded of the of the time Ran cried, questioning him that if he was such a great detective why wouldn’t he just deduce it?

Kaito was also glaring at him, _seriously_ glaring at him.

“You don’t even know _anything_. I thought you were different…” the thief sighs, disappointed—and he once more he was reminded of— _no_.

“I should’ve known…”

 

 _He needed to stop Kaito there_ , _he needed to get him to understand—_! Before…

 

“I should’ve known that you wouldn’t be any different.” Kaito pulls away when he tried to physically stop him, glaring him in place.

 

“No, that’s not what I—Kaito…”

 

“Stop.” and he did. It was already too late. “You detectives really have no consideration. Just leave it, Tantei-kun…” _it_ hurt. Kaito was also hurt, but it also hurt to see how he failed such trust in the other.

“If you can’t even respect that…” he didn’t like where this was heading. Even if it was too late, he had to get Kaito to understand—this wasn’t why he left mid-heist, but what could he say?

 

“Just leave, forget that this ever happened and never show your face to me again.”

 

All fight left him, staring feeling numb all over as the other thief turned around, the wind blowing in his favor—an ever familiar noise, and the thief was off sailing the sky on his hang glider. _Leaving_ him.

 

 _Leaving him when he trusted Kaito not to—_! But this was also his fault. And he could only watch as the thief’s form became smaller the bright moon almost obscuring his figure.

 

He should’ve known not to get his hopes up too high, but wasn’t this what he wanted? He wanted Kaito to leave it alone, wanted Kaito— _Kid_ to leave, the longer the other teen stayed, the higher his chances were to be shot down. He’ll apologize, even if Kaito wouldn’t accept it. Getting farther, _father out of reach_.

 

But wouldn’t that be favorable in the long run? That would mean he’s also far out of _Their_ reach.

 

Speaking of them, he needed to get going, go back to Ran—maybe, leave a message, then he’ll talk to the FBI tomorrow, they needed to move. If _They_ were after Kid, he needed to do something about—

 

 _Someone was staring at him_. The hairs on the back of his neck rose, his heart thundered, and something in his mind screamed. He didn’t think of it, he turned around, snapping to face the obviously Organization operative behind him, his watch already clicking open and ready to aim—and his eyes widened, feeling something zip past his ear. His heart stopping as he watched the man shake off the shattered handmade silencer that only works on the first shot.

And he realizes, _the man never left_. He had let his guard down.

 

Had he not move as he did— _when_ he did, that bullet would have been burrowed its way through his head and buried itself on the next building wall as it did now. It would have killed him.

 

_For good._

 

He had to send a message to the FBI, sending it to Akai would expose the man’s cover—but he had both of his hands occupied with his watch, that’s quite aimed lowly for his liking, at this rate it would only bounce off the barrel of the gun that currently aiming at him.

But that wasn’t the most important problem right now, it was the fact that this man somehow still managed to hide in the shadows. Annoyingly obscuring his identity, though how much of that would help in this situation, he did not know—it wasn’t like there was a way for him to send a message of sorts to the others.

Not only that, he was sure petty distraction tactics wouldn’t work on this man. This man would know if he tried to misdirect him and make an escape.

 

To make matters worse, he’s pretty sure Kaito— _Kid_ is still behind him, escaping and leaving now might get him targeted. _He needed to keep this man here_. So, he tried to inch the watch up as slowly as possible ready to shoot the moment the man showed any indication he was going to squeeze the trigger. Something nagged at the back of his mind, but he swatted it down, choosing to focus on the man in front of him.

 

“Tsk, tsk…” the man was smirking, but he could feel the man’s gaze on his watch— _so he noticed_. _Damn_. Not to mention, from his posture alone; this man didn’t just recognize him. _No_ , he clearly knows him. That wasn’t good.

 

“Who are you?!” he hisses as best as he could, unable to yell—despite the fact that this man nearly shot him. Despite the fact that his heart pounded loudly that it almost deafened him, adrenaline wreaking havoc in his veins, he also felt utterly drained. Despite the cold gripping fear that started to claw up at him, freezing him in place.

 _He had to shake it off_ , _he needed to move_.

 

He knew that he screwed up somewhere when Rum-potential suspects had started popping in his life.

_Had he been too smart? Way ahead of his supposed peers?_

 

Or _was it something else entirely? Haibara?_ No—both Vermouth and Bourbon confirmed her death for him, _maybe they found out anyway?_

 

 _Kaito—_ that conversation earlier— _was he here for Kid?_

 

If he was, he couldn’t leave—he might switch targets. _Not when Kid was still behind him,_ he couldn’t afford to—

 

“Look at you… how _adorable_ ~” the man drawls. “Gin did a fine work feeding you Sherry’s half-finished product, _Shin’ichi-kun._ ” and he froze as the man smirked wider. The cold gripping fear tearing into him with renewed vigor, burying into his very core as his thoughts _raced_.

Before he could even think of it, he had re-aimed the watch, ready to fire—his mind whirled, _spinning_ , worrying in near panic-induced hysterics if everyone were safe or not.

Because there was something off-setting, and oddly familiar with this man. Something that reminded him of Gin, yet _not_ , someone _worse_ than the man that shrunk him.

“Now, now… that’s bad Shin’ichi-kun.” the man continues to drawl; as if the threat of being tranquilized wasn’t a threat to him— _and it likely wasn’t_ , _Gin had only **staggered**_. This wasn’t good, _not_ _good_ , at all. “You shouldn’t aim toys, especially when you have such unsteady aim.”

He was right, he was quivering, his head snaps up, nearly flinging himself off the building, having moved closer to the ledge during his and Kid’s— _no don’t think about that now_. But his eyes snap to his wrist that is gripped tightly in the man’s hand that pulls him back at the same time keep him from firing the dart. The man was too fast, working silently.

And he couldn’t help but try and pull back, even if it meant he would most likely fall off, and in his struggles, he looked up—only to feel his throat closing up on him.

 

 _It doesn’t make any sense_.

 

_That was his, his father’s and Kaito—Kid’s face!_

 

The man smiles coldly, pulling them both back, the shadow cast over him once more.

 

“Now, we should step back a bit… we don’t want you falling off, now do you, Shin’ichi-kun?” _who the hell was this guy?_

 

“Don’t act so familiar with me! I _don’t_ even know who you are!” and he tries to pull out of the man’s light yet firm grip once again.

 

“Now, now… we both know that’s a lie.” the man chastises—sounding heavily disappointed. But that was true since he had an inkling on who this man is, even if he didn’t know the man’s identity. “And, is that any way to treat your uncle?” he froze.

 

 _What?_ He stares up at the man, whose face he now recognizes despite the shadows obscuring it. Confusion and unbidden horror choking him. The man smiles again, coldly and as apathetically sinister as ever.

 

Something he wished he’d never see on a face so like his own—his father’s, _Kaito’s_ …

 

But he didn’t want to believe that, _no way_.

 

_His father didn’t have a brother! His grandmother had long since passed away. His grandfather hadn’t even shown up once in his life—he has no uncle._

 

“The hell you are!” he sneers, pulling again—he refused to accept that—but despite his best efforts he still remained frustratingly in place. Then the man tugs, and he nearly falls on his face, if it weren’t for the man keeping him in place, making him dangle quite painfully. The man pushes him back to make eye contact with him. And he couldn’t stop observing.

 _Blue like his, like his father’s_.

 

“Now…” the man starts, breaking through his thoughts. “I want you to look a bit to your left.” he was confused, but the man’s tone prompted him to look.

A slight turn to his left, as far as the grip on his arm allowed him to, to the far building and he felt a lead weight drop, feeling like his heart sunk. A hitched breath, because a _sniper_ is stationed there, clearly meant for Kaito—for _Kid_ —he knew he should’ve checked!

“You don’t want Uncle’s _friend_ to shoot down the _pretty birdie_ , right?” he whirls around to glare at the man, only to falter at the man’s ecstatic face, as if the thought was enough to excite him.

 

“You’re not—wha-you… _leave him out of this_ —this has nothing to do with him!” the man grins obviously relishing in his horror.

 

“Oh~ but it has everything to do with him, dear nephew.”

 _He can’t breathe again_ , not when the man is smiling like that, eyeing past him as if something else had caught his attention— _no_ , he was looking at _Kid—Kaito_.

 

“No! You can’t!” he chokes, trying to whirl around to see, to know whether or not they took the chance and somehow shot Kid down while he wasn’t looking. Dread tearing into him almost reminiscent to how the Apoptoxin tears into him, melding into his skin and into his nerves. Struggling futilely against this man’s hold.

 

“Oh, but I _can_.” the man drawls. “ _Anytime_ really…”

 

_This can’t be happening._

“Even you know, just to name a few, _Ran-neechan… Ayumi-chan…_ ” he chokes, his mind already procuring the images in his head. The man smirks, tightening his grip to near bruising as if to prove to him, to emphasize that _this was_ happening. “Agasa… Hattori… _Haibara…_ ”

_No… no, no, no…_

 

_“Kaito.”_

“N-no…” _he can’t breathe, he can’t think! He needed to warn Kid to get away!_

 

“ _Anytime_ … but be glad dear nephew.” the man’s posture suddenly changed. It made him feel even more unbalanced. “That time isn’t now… this is merely…” the man hums, smirking at him. “Well, a _distraction_.” his eyes widen—hearing the gun click, re-aimed.

Mind whirling from the new message.

 

Until he heard the loud crack of a gun being fired, breaking through his thoughts as blinding white pain engulfed him as it rapidly spread from his chest, actually unable to breathe this time as blood welled-up in his throat—only he doesn’t have the strength to cough it out. Feeling broken glass scrape his lungs at his body’s attempt to breathe.

And like clockwork, strength drains away from his body, he sags and drops to the ground as the man let him go. His head turned towards Kid— _Kaito’s_ direction, but his vision blurred, accompanied by creeping darkness and black spots. He could faintly make out Kid— _Kaito_ against the dark night sky and his dimming vision. But his strength drained in rapid and alarming capacities.

 

He swore _K_ id— _Kaito_ made a jerky maneuver, but his eyelids felt too heavy, pain clouding most of his thoughts to try and find a logical explanation behind it. An explanation that didn’t mean _this_ _man_ did shoot him down.

 

 _Breathing hurt_ , his ears rang as his eyes stung and his vision blurred and darkened even further. Kaito’s white blob a stark contrast against it, growing larger almost as if he was trying to get closer.

 

( _That wasn’t possible,_ Kaito said it himself. _He didn’t want anything to do with him._ )

 

But _it was a nice thought anyway._

 

And he welcomes the darkness. The man’s voice was crystal clear to his ears, despite the ringing and faraway muffled yelling…?

 

**_“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you, Shin’ichi-kun…”_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **(I was gonna upload this sooner** , but Nakamori-keibu, and practically everyone in the fandom didn’t want me to see the heist note.  
> Conan and Kid were being annoyingly secretive… everyone else being annoyingly uncooperative, though seeing what just happened, I can understand.  
> And my OC!Villain just wanted me to get it done…  
> So much hate and sadism… these guys.
> 
> Yes, I purposely re-winded the time… you guys needed the first half of this chapter anyways… I think.
> 
> But, yes! We’ve finally caught up to where Prologue left us! ***mad cackling***
> 
> Ahem.
> 
> But on a lighter note, thank you for 100 Kudos! (I would have actually done the same for 50 Kudos, but I was preoccupied at that moment and it went past it, so, I apologize. But thank you, everyone, for your support!)
> 
> [ _Also_ , goddamn inconsistency… when Kaito asked; **“Everything okay, Tantei-kun?”** Conan shakes his head, almost like saying “No.”  
> I apologize, but that’s because, in my head, Kaito actually asked **“Is something wrong, Tantei-kun?”** in _Japanese_ , and Conan responded; **“Nothing.”**  
>  God I hate my brain at times.]
> 
> Also, who thought I was going to copy-paste the Prologue? [ _Now, now… where’s the fun in that?_ ]
> 
>  
> 
> **Until the next chapter~  
> **  
>  **Adieu.  
> **  
>  **—DescriptivePessimism-DAA)**


	9. VIII: Our Heist (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **( _Almost_ chapter 7, but more Kaito.** [ _For the chapter 7 bit._ ]
> 
> But Happy Birthday, Shin-chan! [ _Sorry for getting you shot, not sorry._ ]
> 
>  
> 
> **Read responsibly.**
> 
>  
> 
> **As always... _enjoy_.)**

 

> **|** **俺たちのヘイスト** **|**

  

“Or could  _Snake_  mean another thing entirely?” his breath hitches, having just reached the roof, only to find Tantei-kun partly hidden in the shadows, muttering that  _accursed_ name.

 

 _“Where did you hear that?”_  the boy jolts, spinning around to face him looking confused, but he had to know. “ _Shin_ , where did you hear that?”

 

“I…” Shin starts but trails off, which made some anger rise inside him because if Shin knew something, he deserved to know.

 

“Shin, where did you hear that name?!” he prompts, though inwardly he winces at his tone. The boy didn’t deserve that, but a more vengeful part of him didn’t care, it thirsted to know.

 

“That doesn’t matter,” the boy suddenly says, and it feels like his world is falling apart. Because  _Shin knows something_ , and he  _needed to know._

“Kaito, you have to leave. I—”  _No, he wasn’t going to just leave,_  he has a lead _Tantei-kun shouldn’t keep it to himself, because it does matter._

 

“ _No_ , Tantei-kun.  _It does matter!”_  Conan chokes, and he partly feels guilty about shaking the boy,  _but he needed to know_. It may  _not_  matter to the boy, but it did to him.

 

 _Snake was—_ not  _now_. He resolves because it wasn’t the moment he should think of that.

 

“At the moment, it does  _not_!” he had to stop from growling.  _What right did he have?_  “You have to listen;  _you_  need to leave now.”  

 

_He wants me to listen to him when he won’t listen to me? Like hell!_

 

“No, it’s  _you_  who doesn’t understand! It matters to me!  _Now_ , where did you hear that name?” Kaito crouched to hold him in place. A part of him noted that the boy was trying to keep from making a strained expression.

 

“That’s none of your business!” 

 

_… What? Hell. No._

(The last of his restraints snapped.)

 

…

 

Kaito sighs as the calming, familiar sensation of ‘ _flying’_  envelops him, already heading for the landing point he and Hakuba agreed on.

His mind flashing back to the  _conversation_  he and the little detective just had—and he knows he shouldn’t have been too harsh on the boy, while highly intelligent, the boy was still a  _kid_. And he completely blew it.

He’ll apologize and make it up to the detective tomorrow—

 

He just went past nearly a block, when he hears a near silent echo of something hitting against a solid wall before it ricocheted to something metallic.

 

And he is reminded of the detective kicking those super-powered soccer balls of his.

He feels anger, betrayal, and frustrated disappointment welling up in him again—did the detective decided to kick a ball in his general direction? Not willing to risk it, he tilts the glider just in case, and to let the ball miss, if Tantei-kun decides to fire another one—while he twists, bends and turns to look, immediately tracking the building he left Tantei-kun on.

 

Confusion gnawed on him because Tantei-kun’s back is turned to him. And he almost thought that Tantei-kun just turned his back on him  _now_ , which makes the annoyance raise—until he notes that the boy wasn’t alone.

 

There is another man clad in black, shadows almost enveloping him, in front of the boy.

 

His breath hitches,  _now_  realizing that what he heard wasn’t a soccer ball or some kicked object.  _No_ , he just heard how a  _bullet_  ricochets off a wall to dig its grave someplace else, something metallic. But he shoves that down, and tries to turn the glider back around—only to meet resistance, and thrown even farther.

The jerk made him tense—seeing a black metallic glint in the man’s hand.

 

_A gun pointed at Tantei-kun…_

 

And Tantei-kun suddenly jerks back—in response to the man stepping forward into the moonlight; his face is still awfully obscured—too close to the ledge for comfort that Kaito felt his heart leap to his throat— _because he could fall!_

_He was too far to try and catch him. And he doubts the other criminal would. What was Tantei-kun waiting for? Where are his soccer balls? Why isn’t he using his tranquilizer?!_

But the man is pulling an obviously struggling Tantei-kun back, completely overpowering the overly mature child. The boy jerks suddenly going tense, twists, then he stops and renews his struggling efforts again.

 

Kaito swore he could hear his muffled, panicked exclaims—sounding as if he was tripping over his own words.

 

And Kaito tries to fly back, or even close the glider but the wind trapped was preventing the  _stupid_   _contraption_  from closing.

Hoping that Tantei-kun wouldn’t stop fighting until he could get to him, that he wouldn’t give—

 

Tantei-kun  _stops_ , tensing. And Kaito didn’t need to see the detective’s face to see the horrified expression, and he doubles his efforts. About to force the glider close—it wouldn’t matter if he falls, he just needed to get to him! When the wind shifts in his favor, allowing him the turn and glide back, to help—

 

A loud crack of a gun being fired echoed in the otherwise silent night…

And his heart drops, seeing dark red spurt out of the boy’s torso, clashing against his blue jacket—and he drops, his face turned to Kaito’s direction— _No._

 

A  _man in black_ , it could be the dangerous men the detective got on cross-hairs with, like the one on that train… but tonight is a Kid heist, not to mention with what happened earlier—

 

 _Snake. It_ has _to be his doing._

 

He nearly sneers speeding, the wind helping him as if it now sensed his urgency. Then he chokes, when the man steps next to the boy, opening a big duffel bag enough to fit— _No_ ,  _he can’t! He mustn’t take Tantei-kun! No!_

 

 ** _“No! Tantei-kun!”_**  the boy doesn’t even react, he stays  _still_  as if— _no_ , he  _can’t_  be. Tantei-kun’s too strong for that.

 

He growls, blinking away the welling tears in his eyes, ignoring how his Poker Face cracked and crinkled off. For the second time that night—

 

 ** _“Don’t you dare touch him!”_**  but the man ignores him, picking up the boy and tucking him inside the bag and zipping it up. Kaito glares, rage, heat, and hatred raising up in him again. And the man had the nerve the grin at him as if he  _had won_.  _No—_ he won’t let him get away with this.

The man slugs the bag on his shoulder, easily carrying the weight of a person—a child’s, but still a  _person_. And he sprints away.

 

 ** _“Stop right there! Give him back!”_**   _I can’t lose him… not him too… I already lost so many…_  but the man is gone before he even lands on the roof.

He gives chase around the spot where the man disappeared, but there were no traces of the man, nor the duffel— _Tantei-kun_. He breathes heavily not even minding the fact that he is very visible with his Kid outfit as he looks around for the trail of the  _bastard_. Hissing and whimpering when he couldn’t see anything.

With an involuntary high whine that tore itself from his throat, he fishes out his phone, speed dialing the only other contact of his speed dial.

 

 _“Kaito? Where are you? You’re not hurt—_ ”

 

 _Hurt… no one’s supposed to get seriously hurt on his heists, before, during or after—preferably,_ ever.  _But Tantei-kun was just—he could even be—!_

“Hakuba, help… the-they got Tantei-kun…”  _damnit_ , he  _needed to breathe._

 

_“What? Where are you?!”_

“I-I can’t find the-m… he-lp, Hakuba. Please. I can’t find Tantei-kun… they took him.”

 

_“Kaito, listen to me. You need to tell me where you are, you’re still at the heist site? Tell me what happened, how did they kidnap, Edogawa-kun?”_

 

“Gods, Hakuba… they shot him,  _the bastard shot him!_ We have to find him! Rescue him from them, get him to the hospital—”

 

_“Shit, calm down, I’m almost there.”_

 

“Please… I lost sight of him… I… can’t…”

 

 _“Kaito, listen to me… calm down, we’ll find Edogawa-kun. I need you to calm, we’ll search for the track. They can’t have gotten far too quickly without leaving a trail. So…”_  Kaito wanted to listen to Hakuba as he tries to calm him down, saying things like making sure he,  _Kaito_ , wasn’t hurt. And he wasn’t,  _but Tantei-kun got shot!_   _No one gets hurt! No one should get hurt on,_ and _after_  his  _heists!_

 

 _No one gets hurt_ …  _especially Tantei-kun, because the boy is a menace, highly amazingly intelligent and—was hurting emotionally after Kaito did a dick move and broke his promise—_

 

And he freezes, because—

 

“This is my fault…”

 

_“What? No, is this like Nightmare again? Kaito—listen to me, this isn’t your fault. We’ll find him.  I—we, need you at the top of your…”_

 

_But it is his fault, he had emotionally hurt Tantei-kun, so bad that he couldn’t fight back against Kaito… against that man… and now he’s shot on the chest—middle; a lung-shot. Tantei-kun was going to bleed out before they could even find him._

 

He looks down, and wonders why he went back to the roof before his eyes tracked the puddle of blood, and the signs of disturbance when the man had moved the bod— _no, Tantei-kun isn’t dead yet_.

 

This was the last place he saw Tantei-kun.

 

With a blank,  _betrayed, sad,_ and  _crushed look on his face_.

 

Because Kaito lost hold of his Poker Face and became an ass.

****

**_“Stop, you detective really have no consideration. Just leave it, Tantei-kun… if you can’t even respect that, just leave, forget that this ever happened and never show your face to me again.”_ **

That was what he said.

While the boy only had stared at him, eyes dulled, his own Poker Face slamming on with a blank emotionless mask.

 

And he might never see him again. Only with the boy’s devastated face, blank face and the boy’s far-away look as he laid on the roof. A pool of blood— _his own blood_ —around him as his last sight of the boy’s face

 

…

 

Hakuba rushed up the stairs leading up to the roof, skipping a step more than once. Heaving a breath when he reached the last of the steps, a quick look around and he sees Kaito still clad in his Kid uniform.

The other teen was curled up against a generator’s wall. His eyes blown wide and dilated, faint tremors reverbing through his body—breathing erratic.

_He was panicking._

 

Hakuba thought back to the Nightmare case, wondering how Kaito dealt with that alone—but that wasn’t quite right. Unlike  _Nightmare_ , Kaito had an emotional investment on Edogawa. If he were to say it himself, he’d say the other teen was infatuated with the boy because he did  _know_  better.

Kaito had invested in the younger detective, because of his mind.

 

Admired the boy, like he did his father.

 

And like his father,  _those men_ took Edogawa away.

 

—And he’ll be damned if he lets it be.

 

He contacts Baaya to call the police, Edogawa was abducted right in front of Kaito’s eyes, but before that he needed Kaito to calm down and for them to work out their cover story.

 

…

 

Nakamori growls having just lost visual on Kid, temper raising on boiling level. He could even sense how some of his subordinates kept quiet just to avoid being yelled at. When his cellphone started ringing, he was ready to scream at the person on the other line—but forced himself to calm down somewhat.

“What?” he didn’t growl, but it was close. The other members of the Taskforce, of course, kept quiet listening and observing closely to how the Inspector’s face shifted from emotions to another.

 

 _“WHAT?!”_   _and_  he was back to growl-yelling. “Is Kaito-kun fine?” when a familiar name reaches their ears, all of them perk up and shifted closer. Worry etched in all of their faces.

They have all grown familiar with the teen, while quite the prankster, they had to admit the boy was usually helpful in bringing the mood up—if something were to happen to him, they were willing to go down on a warpath. And they can tell it was the same for the Inspector, especially with how his face dropped into a worried frown, brows furrows.

 

“Preserve the crime scene, Hakuba… we’ll be there.” they all watched as the man lowered the phone, his fingers tightening around it. “EVERYONE IN! BACK TO THE COLLECTOR HOUSE!”

They didn’t need to be told twice, and once more the sirens echoed throughout the city.

 

The ones riding with the Inspector wondered what the call was about, and what was making him so cagily anxious—but they kept quiet. Knowing that if they were to ask, they’d be even more worried than they already were, before they even get to the scene.

And for now, they were willing to trust the Inspectors judgment.

 

With a deep breath, they watched silently as the Inspector braced himself and dialed a number.

 

…

 

Haibara’s eyes narrowed on the formula and network of Kudou’s DNA as displayed brightly on her screen. A thought forming in the back of her mind, deciding to go through with her previous hypothesis—one she thought would never work, seeing as it never showed up on Kudou cells before, nor did it show up on hers.

However, there was also another possibility that the previous samples just missed it, it was quite the evasive cell after all.

 

Swallowing a forming lump in her throat, she opens up her simulating software, encoding it with the formulas and data that her mother had hypothesized—that was lost in the lab fire—not that she couldn’t figure it out if she actually wanted.

But maybe, just _maybe_ …

 

There was another way—the chances were slim and the necessary cell state requirement had to be as pure as possible. But as long as Kudou were to avoid ingesting certain chemicals, there was a chance he could go back to being Kudou Shin’ichi.

 

She waited for the data to load, leaving the table to brew herself another cup of coffee.

 

A few minutes in her absence the file load was complete and a second later, the results filled a blank document.

 

…

 

Megure looks up at the sound of his phone ringing, his wife blinks up at him from where she is reheating his dinner. Sighing having just returned from the headquarters, he picks it up with a heavy sigh.

 

“Yes? This is Megure.” he answers, and before he knew it the tiring exhaustion from the earlier day bleeds away.

 

 _“What?!”_  his wife jolts next to him as he lets out a slew of curses. When the other inspector hangs up. He calls up every officer that ever worked under him—while inwardly he knew he was simply stalling from contacting the Mouris.

 

Soon enough, he had told almost anyone he knew would care, under his command. Which left the Mouris to contact as the boy’s current guardians. He wasn’t looking forward to it.

 

(He was right.)

 

…

 

“Dad? Megure-keibu insists he talks to you?” Ran says, groaning and wondering what the Inspector could want this late at night he takes the receiver from his daughter’s hand.

 

“Yes? Mouri here. Is something the matter, Keibu-dono?”

 

_“Mouri-kun…”_

 

“Is it a case?”

 

_“Do you know where tonight’s heist took place?”_

 

“Who doesn’t? It was all over the news, if not the brat was yapping all week about it. What about it?”

 

_“It’s actually about Conan-kun…”_

 

 _Ugh… what did the brat do now?_  “What did the brat do now?” he shoos at Ran’s apparent curiosity—even though he knew how futile that is

 

 _“Mouri-kun… just get to the crime scene, will you? And can you keep Ran-kun out of it?”_  that was worrying, if it was a normal crime scene, Megure wouldn’t even bother from telling him to keep Ran out of it. But he did, not to mention the grim tone.

 

“Keibu… what happened?” he asks, feeling the effects of the alcohol bleed away.

 

 _“Please, it’s easier to say it in person than over the phone. And I’d rather speak with you in person.”_  a protest was at the tip of his tongue, but the Inspector already hang up on him.

But he tells Ran as much, wondering if he really should keep her home—from the Inspector’s tone it must be preferable.

 _But of course, Ran wouldn’t have it_.

 

“You mentioned Conan-kun… did something happen?” even if something  _did_ , he didn’t know.

 

“Did we? Now, the Inspector needs me for a case, don’t wait up—”

 

“No! You mentioned Conan-kun! I  _know_  something happened. Let me go with you!” she grabs his arm that was in the process of slipping on his jacket.

 

“Ran, it’s just a normal case. Come on…” he tried to shake her grip of, but her fingers only tightened—and he wondered if she’d tear his clothes.

 

“No, the heist was all over the news… something happened and Conan-kun was there. I know he was. I’m coming with you.” she insists, at the moment he tries to protest she glares and he just knows that was a threat, so he sighs and tells her to grab her coat.

If she had a bad feeling, he didn’t blame her—he had one too, the call wasn’t exactly comforting.  

 

…

 

Akai slips out from his mental restraints, frowning tightly at what he just overheard from his and the FBI’s planted bugs in the Mouri’s residence. With a near silent growl, he opens his laptop to hack into the footages of the said Kid heist area.

There was something wrong. Something had happened, and he’ll do anything to find out.

 

Not to mention, Kir’s last message was also highly concerning.

 

 _‘The green fairy is on the move_. _’_

 

…

 

Bourbon had to hold himself from reacting violently when Vermouth suddenly smacks her lips together, growling lowly, and slammed her heeled shoe on the front compartment, rattling his Mazda RX-7.

 

 _“That bastard.”_  she hisses. “Bourbon, drive. I’m going to make a call.” curious, but not really fond with the idea of having a heel getting plunged through his eye socket—especially when Vermouth is bitching as she did.

“Hello? May I speak to my  _Red Butterfly_ , please?” he blinks, glancing at her in mild curiosity. Noticing his side-eyes, she gives him one firm shake of her head and a tight frown. Before she is speaking in rapid heavily accented Japanese.  _Tosa_   _accent_  if he recalled correctly.

 

But after translating them in his mind, he noticed they were said purposely vague—then that meant whatever happened was something big enough to piss off Vermouth. And report to this  _Red Butterfly_  person.

He could hear a faint sharp scream of a woman from the other end of the phone, but Vermouth hangs up when he could hear a rather familiar man’s voice filter through.

 

“Keep driving, I’ll give you directions. Protest, and I’m digging a bullet through your head.” while he highly doubted that threat—there was also a fact that there was a chance that someone was listening in, so he drives on.

Making sure to check on any report from Kazami the soonest availability.

 

…

 

A phone lets out a shrill ping, and almost excitedly and impatiently, he grabs the phone. Tapping in the password, unlocking it in swift, quick succession of number combinations. Then he opens the new message notification.

 

 ** _‘Target acquired.’_**  was all the text said, accompanied by an attached photo—one, despite taken from low lighting, that allowed him to recognize the unmistakable face of one de-aged,  _Kudou_   _Shin’ichi_ —whom he knew is a splitting image of his father,  _Yuusaku_.

 

He doesn’t resist his urge to smile.

 

 _Soon_ …

 

**_“Soon, it’ll be complete.”_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **(I already had the first part of Kaito’s perceptive here pre-typed…** like right after typing the Prologue months back [ _even before the publication of this fic._ ]  
> But I did adjust a few words here and there, some sentences etc.
> 
> But anyways, once again.
> 
>  
> 
> _Happy Birthday, Shin’ichi!_
> 
>  
> 
> To show my appreciation, I made and tried to put **“everyone”** in here with the _**intent** of appreciating_ Shin’ichi/Conan.
> 
> Also, before anyone points it out; like BO wouldn’t do something so eye-catchy like this… well, the only thing I can say to that without resorting to movie ( _"non-canon"_ ) explanations—I mean, _hello_? Raining bullets from a military helicopter on Touto Tower ( **Movie 13** )? Or on Beika Aquarium’s Ferris Wheel ( **Movie 20** )?—but anyways, all I can say is that…
> 
> Everything happens for a reason. It’s all part of the big plan. That’s all I’m willing to spill for now ;)
> 
> Hope you guys liked this! [ _Because almost everyone else was glaring and scowling at me, Kaito started sulking in the corner, my only saving graces were the OC!Villain and Ano Kata._ ]
> 
>  
> 
> **Until the next chapter~**  
>  **Adieu.**  
>  **—DescriptivePessimism-DAA)**


	10. IX: Search | Investigation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **(Hi… yes, shit just hit the fan** , and now we’re [ _mostly me_ ] dealing with vengeful casts. 
> 
> Also, since, I forgot to add it in the last chapter. The complications on Kid’s glider are based: 0.5% on factual research—because my mind scattered during it, 9.5% on observations from the movies, and well, 90% bullshit for plot convenience.  
> All hail Plot Armors.
> 
>  
> 
> **Read responsibly.**
> 
>  
> 
> **As always... _enjoy_.)**

 

 

> **|** **捜査** **|**

    

Yukiko didn’t shriek, but it was a near thing. Almost busted his eardrums—not to mention it nearly gave him a fatal cardiac arrest, swearing that he lost almost a good decade of his long life.

However, the tone of her shriek wasn’t her shrill happy one, it was something that indicated that angered and yet frightened her enough that her Poker Face _slipped_. He didn’t like the notion that alone implied.

 

So, without any prompt—aside from his own wary and morbid curiosity, he stalks the room his wife went into earlier to answer her call. One that had started off with her greeting in her usual jovial tone.

“Dear? Who’s on the phone?” he asks lowly, only managing to catch the tail end of his wife’s sentence and he had to stop himself from freezing.

 

_“…Sharon?!”_

 

 _What the hell did_ that woman _want now? Wasn’t it already enough that they were involved in this mess because she couldn’t stop herself from being whimsical?!_

Glaring at the receiver in his wife’s white-knuckled hands, he tunes in their conversation—shoving any thoughts of bitter resentment for his wife’s supposedly so-called _“Best Friend.”_

 

“Why would they be interested in Shin-chan?!” his head snaps up at the mention of his son’s name. “Can’t you get him out somehow?!”

 

 _That was possibly the very existence of everything that is the opposite of anything positive_ … because if his theory of the Organization Boss’ identity turns out to be factual. _Then They knew_.

He didn’t let common courtesy hinder him from shouldering past the doorframe, stalk across the room practically wrenching the phone from his wife’s hands.

 

“Is Shin’ichi alright? Explain the situation at once, I’ll—” he didn’t even get more than a few words and _that woman_ hangs up on him. _The nerve_.

“Yukiko, will you pack our things, please?” his wife seethes not at him, but quickly whirls on her heels to grab her laptop, and their suitcases heels sharply clacking against the carpeted floor. He sets her to it to stew about, his wife on a warpath was something even _he_ didn’t want to get in the way of.

 

On the other hand, he has to make a few calls himself.

 

…

 

Akai almost gives in to the urge to fling his laptop through the window—forcing himself to breathe deeply, reminding himself of his days as a focused-sniper and his rigorous training to get to that. Also, reminding himself that he’ll have to explain why he needed a window fixed to his generous— _very generous_ —landlord and a new laptop from James. ( _Plus, he wasn’t a certain temperamental Secret Police NOC._ )

From the footages he got, the man that left the heist location with a duffle bag was indeed an Organization operative—but there was something off about that alone.

 

As grateful he was to a shred of concrete evidence— _no_ , that wasn’t quite right. He was certain that this man was a Black Organization operative. So far, he hasn’t heard a thing about something odd occurring on the heist, well, at least, _not_ _yet_.

Moreover, it simply wasn’t feasible that a member of the Organization—one that escaped the police’s notice would let himself get caught on some surveillance footage. Additionally, that haughty smirk he sent to one of the cameras as if he was expecting the exact moment he would look into it.

It was off-setting, not to mention, while he didn’t recognize the man. There was something oddly familiar about him—that smirk especially.

 

Thus he tugs on that forming theory and mentally capitalizes on it and—

—jolts, eyes widening before they glare down at the screen. His hands quickly grabbing for his phone he presses on James’ speed dial, and he switches the voice-changer off while it rang before he could even properly think through his actions.

 

 _“Yes?”_ the man speaks, alarm and curiosity bleeding in his voice.

 

“I believe I caught sight of our _Green Fairy_ …” he ignores the other man’s part urging inquiring hum and part gasp, plowing on, because he _needed to make sure_. “…but before that I need Jodie and Camel on the heist site, get them in the investigation.”

 

_“Something happened?”_

 

“I hope _not_. But there’s something I need to clarify, I believe Inspector Megure of Tokyo Metropolitan’s Homicide Division will be there—Jodie and Camel have already met the man, and he wouldn’t be there without his trusted officers.” James hums, and he pauses as he hears the man type the message on his other phone. He breathes to calm his hammering heart, glancing up at the lone framed family picture of the Kudous taken almost a decade ago.

“If I’m wrong, we can play it off as a long-inactive investigator’s curiosity…” glaring at the deliberate footage, his hands tightened. “If I’m right...” _we’re mostly royally screwed…_ he trails off, unwilling to consider the possibility but knowing that it very well still exists.

 

 _“If you’re right?”_ James prompts, having paused himself.

 

“Well… let’s hope that I’m not.” he manages to ground out, it wasn’t like he could explain it without exposing another person’s secrets that must be kept—even in this situation and because the less people that knew, the better.

 

And it’s not like he could explain why he believes _Edogawa Conan_ is vital to bringing down the Organization to James, anyway.

 

(While Jodie _might_ be inclined to believe it… to them,  _Edogawa Conan_ was _no more than a kid_. A brilliant, highly observant and deadly intelligent child. But _still_ _a child_.)

 

…

 

Megure sighs, with how cases tend to be weird around him. He wasn’t even surprised when a supposedly Kid fan happened to witness the potential _murder_ and _kidnapping_ of one Edogawa Conan—who has been more than just a familiar face. Satou had yelled in his ear when he told her over the phone in sheer shock and outrage. (The only reason he didn’t get mad at her was that he felt the same.)

And that was only when Inspector Nakamori had only told him that a civilian just witnessed a murder _and_ the kidnapping of the boy. Satou, Takagi, Shiratori, and _Chiba_ had all yelled when they were all briefed at the crime scene.

The subjective reactions were enough to let him wonder if they were all actually fit for this case—seeing as they were all emotionally invested and that could lead them to be irrational decisions. But looking around to the uncharacteristically grim and enraged faces of the Taskforce told him that _no_.

Someone just tried to _murder_ _one of their own_  and even had the gall to _abduct him_. Conan deserved them giving it their all, just as he helped them on many previous cases. (No matter how much he played it like he wasn’t—that they were just coincidental nonchalant commentaries. Once was chance. Twice a coincidence, but _thrice_? That was a pattern— _a pattern that stayed consistent._ )

 

He couldn’t find it in himself to even think of handing it off to someone else. (Not to mention that he was relatively certain that there were little to no officers that the boy hasn’t met and made an impact on. He just had to make a few more calls, and likely most Inspectors and Officers from different Prefectures would soon be demanding leads and evidence from them.

Hell, Nagano’s Inspector Yamato would likely be willing to break down a door, a _cane_ , _limp and all_.)

 

The witness was still less than coherent—and it was off-setting seeing someone with a face that’s both _distinctly_ similar to both _Kudou-kun_ and _Conan-kun’s_ face in a state of panic-attack-induced shock. However, they were only similar, so much time spent with both Yuusaku’s boy, and Conan had shown to him how there were some irregularities in said similarities.

If anything, it was Shin’ichi and Conan that shared an uncanny resemblance.

And there was another high school detective—though apparently focusing on Kid heists, according to Nakamori—next to said witness trying to get him to calm down and respond.

 

“Keibu, Mouri-san-tachi are here.” Takagi reports—tone strained, none of his usual enthusiasm that was now replaced by a tight, clipped and chilling tone. But he merely nods at the man, sharing his current temper, and lets the usually soft officer go up to investigate the crime scene.

He only realizes Takagi’s wording when a grim and guilty-looking Mouri steps in front of him with _Ran_ _in tow._

 

_How was he gonna tell his former underclassman now?!_

 

 _“God_ _damnit, Mouri-kun._ ” he hisses, feeling the exhaustion from the cases earlier, _now_ _this case_ mixed on top of it hammering down on him.

 

…

 

Jodie leads the way, making a show of being curious—as if she and Camel just left the 24-hour café, like they were there for the heist since earlier, _despite the fact that she had been sleeping peacefully until her phone let out a shrill ping_ as an emergency notification from her boss. She tried talking to one of the officers nearby—and was honestly surprised when she was told to back-off even more rudely than usual.

There was something wrong that was thickening the tension—and her answers apparently came in the form of one mad-looking Takagi.

 

“Takagi-keiji? Is there a case?” the man falters in his almost predator stalk towards the building, the man’s posture told her there was nothing but bad news.

 

“Jodie-san? And Andre Camel-san.” he acknowledges them both. “What are you two doing here?” it wasn’t even subtle. The man’s face was too grim, too blankly monotone for it to be normal.

 

“We were just watching the heist from afar…and when it seemed over, we read through some paperwork—we were just about to head back. Did something happen?” the man sighs, but he looks at them— _honestly looks at them_ , as if they were someone suspicious and potential suspects.

He must have seen something, but he didn’t voice it out—instead, he tells them exactly what happened.

 

“I know I’m not supposed to tell you this…” the man trails off, glancing at someone behind him—his body blocked her line of sight, and whatever it was he was silently inquiring them on, he got the approval of whoever it was. It wasn’t Megure, the man was talking to Mouri and Ran. Before she could even look further, Takagi clears his throat to gather her attention.

“But with how you have worked together with us even during your _vacation_ …” was it just her or did he sound skeptical just then? “…not to mention you have worked with him more than once.” he was insinuating something there, she just knew it—but she didn’t get the time to analyze the situation and information enough.

He had already dropped the bomb on her—even through grinding teeth, she understood it.

“We’re investigating Conan-kun’s attempted murder and kidnapping.”

 

_What?_

 

And suddenly, it was like that time she first saw Vermouth again, she could hear someone screaming in the background—but she had to calm herself. _She needed to know_ before she jumped into conclusions.

 

“Is he fine?” _It was an attempt, right? That means they didn’t succeed—_ Takagi sighs, _heavily_.

 

“We don’t know… the witness is still in shock. And we’re doing everything we can to track them down. But according to what his friend said, the witness saw someone shoot Conan-kun, and take him with them. As of now, we have no clue as to who and why.”

 

 _That was bad_. _Not good at all._ But they needed to track down Cool Kid—if she recalled correctly, his phone had a GPS connected to the Professor’s computer!

 

“His cellphone…” she manages to choke out. At his interested but still quite defensive look, but actually willing to hear her out, she forces herself to continue. _She couldn’t break_ , not yet. _Not ever_. For _Cool Kid_.

“If I remember correctly, his phone has a GPS that that Professor can track down.” and Takagi’s eyes light up and he nods. She doesn’t let it bother her that he was in a hurry to dismiss himself from her company, she could understand.

 

“I’ll inform you of the developments, thank you. I’ll tell the Inspector, right away.” when he left, she finds herself unable to support herself—Camel catching her just in time.

 

“J-Jodie-san…” he murmurs, but she shakes that off, trying to ignore how tremors shook her body.

 

_She needed to report to James…_

_She needed to tell Shuu._ Her eyes widened, and her body stops quivering. _That’s right_ , _Shuu_.

 

“Come on, Camel, we have what we want. James told us to go here for a reason, they must have something if they sent us here.” she growls lowly, stalking away from the crime scene.

 

“They?” Camel asks, she nods, waiting until they both in her car and with the white noise generator turned on to speak.

 

“James wouldn’t just suddenly tell us to gather intel someplace. The fact that he sent _us_ , and _here_ where Inspector Megure has been involved tells me that this has something to do with Shuu.” the agent stutters but drives. “Shuu noticed something. Keep driving, I’ll make the calls.” he nods shakily but does as told without many hiccups.

 

While a desperate part of her wished that whatever case Cool Kid got caught up into with, wasn’t _Them_. But at the same time, for it to be _Them_.

 

If it were any normal criminals, they’d likely just leave the boy to die, bleed out—unless it was for a ransom, but everyone knew that his guardians are the Mouris, and it wasn’t exactly a secret that they weren’t well-off.

 

But if it was the Organization, they wouldn’t kill him. _No_.

If that was the goal, they wouldn’t have found the need to kidnap him, and even risk a witness.

 

There was another reason _why_ they did— _if they did it_.

 

And she hoped it had nothing to do with the recent moves from Rum, or that member Kir just told them about.

 

…

 

Takagi didn’t actually make it to the Inspector as Satou intercepted his path.

“That was Jodie-san, right?” he nods. “What did she want?”

 

“She asked what happened, apparently she and Camel-san were both around the area when they noticed us here.” Satou’s eyes narrowed.

 

“And you told her.” Takagi knew she wasn’t asking because she already knew he told them, but he nods anyway.

 

“Yes.”

 

“What did she say?” and he took the chance, knowing Satou—she wouldn’t wait for orders but take matters into her own hands. “She mentioned that Agase-hakase had installed a GPS on Conan-kun’s phone.” a sharp glint, and he understood. This was their chance. Then she suddenly grabs his wrist, sharply pulling them towards her car.

 

“Well? What are we waiting for? You handle the call, I’ll drive.”  Shiratori—who had given him the ‘go’ and nods at them in acknowledgment, knowing that they were chasing a lead.

 

Strapping the seatbelt over his torso and into the lock, he dials the Professor’s number as his other hand grabs onto the top side handle for support.

 

…

 

Haibara blinks her eyes opens, wondering what woke up her up ( _she must have fallen asleep while waiting for the water to heat up_ )—it was a phone, on vibrate. Looking around her desk, she spots the source.

_But what was Kudou-kun’s phone doing here?_

 

Then she recalls that he relinquished his phone to them when Ran decided to move on from Shin’ichi, checking the caller she blinks when she sees it was Ran.

 

 _Did something happen?_ She can’t help but think, knowing that it was too soon for the younger Mouri to have made amends with the ‘break-up _’—_ which meant that something must have happened…

 

 _To Conan_. Her eyes widened, but there was no way either of them could answer it, because if something did happen to _Conan_ then there was no way _Kudou Shin’ichi_ could help, unless he helps himself out of the situation.

But tonight was a heist night—that she was certain, then _something happened_ there that likely involved the police who called the Mouris but _what exactly_?

 

Then something she felt as if there was a growing dread from the depths of the darkest recess of her mind, her fingers then itched to race up the stairs to fire up the Professor’s computer or her laptop to locate Kudou’s Edogawa phone. Just as she was about to grab her laptop, she hears the doorbell ring and a muffled yelling from outside— _Takagi-keiji?_

And the dread became a sharp spike. Grabbing her laptop, she runs up the stairs—not once looking back at the results that had stopped typing out details from the result of the simulation.

 

…

 

 

 _No_ , _no_. _This couldn’t be happening._ Ran thought over and over, trying to convince herself that this was just a dream. That she fell asleep, Conan came home safely from the heist—safely asleep tucked in his bed, and this was all nothing but a bad dream.

_Right?_

 

“You’re lying.” she cries, hoping that this Megure would tell her that was why she needed to wake up—but he grimly shakes his head.

 

“Unfortunately…” he sighs, and she could feel her strength draining, and she suddenly couldn’t feel her legs anymore. Knees buckling under her weight—and if it weren’t for someone ( _her father, she’d recognize his hands anywhere_ ) catching hold of her, she would likely have slumped on the floor.

He was still talking, but she couldn’t hear him anymore, feeling like her world was crumbling around her.

 

It was like that time when her parents broke up… but _Shin’ichi_ was _there_ to catch her. Then Shin’ichi left and _Conan_ has been there.

Now, _he_ was disappearing on her. As abruptly as he had come in her life, he was disappearing just as fast. He had become such a constant in her life that it was relieving because she could distract herself when Shin’ichi— _Shin’ichi!_

 

Her hands shook, but she tried her best to navigate her phone for Shin’ichi's contact number. Praying that he would _pick up_  because Conan needed him… _she needed him._

 

…

 

Kogorou could do nothing but watch as his daughter crumbled in his arms. She had already been falling apart when that detective brat had disappeared, watching closely and silently as she came home obviously from another failed date, but the other brat was always there to cheer her up—and she was finally only _moving on_.

 _Now, this happens_. He nearly growls, when he finds the culprit he’ll Judo throw the man, break a leg and let his daughter lose on the criminal—but he stops himself, because Ran needed support first, she needed to pick herself up first so they can track down this monster and show him exactly why they don’t mess with their family. Ran wouldn’t back down anyway, not when it was about Conan.

But she needed to be willed into it first, without the support of others she could be obsessed and that wasn’t good—and he knows exactly who the ones to call to spur that on because he had only been good at silently protecting her, a silent shadow for her. She needed a guiding stronghold, a determined supporter and a vicious motivator.

 

First, he needed to talk to the Osakan brat—he didn’t know what was keeping the detective brat from answering, but the Osakan brat was also close to the glasses brat. Nakamori had apparently understood the slight shift in his stance, and lead them both to the back of the paramedics, seating his daughter there but making sure she wasn’t too close to the other high school detective and his friend—someone in shock wouldn’t be good for her, especially one that he swore looked a lot like the detective brat.

But he had calls to make, while he knew this would involve the Osakan brat—he also knew the teen wouldn’t back down. If he heard of this any later, he would be yelling obscenely and barging his way in.

 

 _“Yea?”_ the other teen yawned when the line picked up.

 

“Brat, I need your friend’s number.” he could practically hear the gears and the teen’s curiosity turning up.

 

 _“Why?”_ he adds concern in the list.

 

“Ran needs her.”

 

_“Hold on, I’ll do ya better. We’ll get there. Where are ya?”_

 

“We’re at the Kaitou Kid heist—” the teen hangs up, but that wasn’t a problem. It would have been impossible to call over that Kazuha-girl without her childhood friend in tow, unlike the vice versa.

 

Now, he just needed to contact his daughter’s best friend and Eri.

 

(From the Inspectors actions, they too wished to keep this issue from the press and public—but he knew just how bad precinct gossip is from his days as an officer.

Even if the Police Departments, including the other Prefectures, manage to keep it under the wraps. He knew the brat has been favored and made a great impact on the Inspectors and officers he met, he wonders how big of an issue this would become.

 

Observing the current officers in the place, and his own feelings, he just knew that everyone would be on a warpath.

—also, weren’t those FBI close to the brat?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **(Yes** , technically the last chapter ( **Chapter 8** ) was part filler, but a significant filler that I didn’t want to cramp it up in here. This one would be too long otherwise… and Chapter 7 already is.
> 
> Also, I could have already just gone on with everyone already in it, since it’s quite boring with just the exchange of phone calls—which I must say might be annoying you guys at this point. Something in me finds it necessary, somehow. [ _Because I believe there should be a reason why characters came in when they did. Though, why am I gathering them so soon? I don’t wanna deal with the constant shift of perspectives later, because someone was left out of the loop._ ]  
>  And, I was going to let Yukiko make the call for the flight tickets, but then I pitied the operator that would be dealing with her.
> 
> Also, I abused the term “That’s not good.” and possibly other words, yet I can’t seem to find it in myself to use those beautiful twisting, profound words I’m sure I read in the past.  
>  But hey, better to use a format you’re more familiar with than tango with something entirely new, and end up tripping and tangled up in a mangled mess.
> 
> I know… Megure’s surprisingly insightful… but the “I saw it on the TV,” or the “coincidental comment” got old too fast. While other’s might not have noticed due to its consistency, there are others that will. And you don’t become an Inspector without _at least_ a good head on your shoulders.
> 
> **_‘What about Yamamura?’_ **
> 
> I believe not Inspector Megure anyway [ _not my-this Megure, anyway_ ]. Plus, he has more Conan-exposure than Yamamura did. In fact, I also believe Inspector Yamato would be one of the ones that will likely find out who’s the actual brains behind Sleeping Kogorou in TMPD (Superintendent Kuroda _does not count._ )
> 
> [ _By the gods, Kogorou stop it with the ‘brat’ monikers._ And well, he is insightful, because he is being serious.]
> 
> **Until the next chapter~**  
>  **Adieu.**  
>  **—DescriptivePessimism-DAA)**


	11. X: Open (your) eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **(Just skip this and get to the story…** you know you want to.  
>  **Read responsibly.**
> 
>  
> 
> **As always... _enjoy_.)**

 

> **|** **目を覚まして** **|**

    

_I’m floating…?_

That was his first thought—even though it should be illogical, but _that_ was what he felt. That idea, however, soon flitted out of his mind when his consciousness and awareness returned to him. Something kept him from opening his eyes, and his gut feeling had never once led him wrong—it was only a matter of trusting and listening to it.

He almost let his brows furrow, and his lips dip into a frown when he felt his back dig into a comfortable bed mattress—a dimension that his futon lacked, yet one he had grown used to since the almost year he spent staying in the Mouri residence—but he held the temptation off. This wasn’t _his bed_ either—wrong bedsheet, and even the wrong blanket, it was familiar yet not.

 

 _A hospital bed_. He soon realizes, which opens up the next question; _Why_.

 

As if triggered, memories from last night came rushing, and his eyes snap open before he could even stop them with it, he tries to spring up— _he needed to know if Kaito was fine!_ —instead was met with resistance. Confusion flickered in his mind for a half second and that’s when he feels them.

 _Binds_. He wasn’t in some hospital, _They took him_.

 

He tugs on them and they didn’t budge, successfully keeping him in place— _no_ , he needed to get out of here. Expose this place, check how everyone is—

 

“Ah, you’re awake, so energetic too. Despite the fact that you just healed.” a familiar voice speaks—and _just healed?_ What did he—

 

_He was shot…! How long was he out? That shot was fatal if he healed then that meant—_

 

He snarls when the man is suddenly right next to him, likely having taken advantage when he wasn’t paying attention, pressing him down onto the bed—right on the spot the bullet went through his chest.

But weirdly enough, it didn’t feel painful, just sore—but none of the pain that usually accompanied a freshly _healed_ nor treated gunshot wound. Not to mention the bullet went through his lung and chest, without immediate attention he would have— _should have_ —bled out and died.

 

“Don’t move too much, you’re going to tear them open.” the man _chides_.

 

_He’s the one that shot him!_

 

“Such a nice glare you have there… really compliments your eyes.”

 

 _Too close! He’s too close!_ Conan sucks in a breath, trying to push himself away from this _psychopath_ , whose fingers were edging way too close to his bare eyes for his liking.

 

“I’m almost tempted to…” the man trails off, chuckling to himself which was as bad as him having not said the implications, feeling goosebumps and cold sweat beading on his skin. “Your heart is pounding… _how cute~_ ” he gagged that just sounded so _wrong_.

“But that’s a good thing! It means I can start!” with an out-of-place skip in his step as he operated the bed so that Conan was partly sitting.

 

 _Start?_ He watches the man hum as he went about the room opening a drawer, only to return to him with a roll of duct tape in his hand. “Wha—” he stops himself, asking why the man took that out is dumb. He needed to recollect data, compartmentalize and—there has to be a _reason_ , _why he’s not dead yet_. Thus, he forces to calm himself.

“What do you want from me?” the man tuts yet seemed more amused than anything.

 

“Isn’t it obvious?”

 

 _No, it’s not!_ He wanted to yell, but the man speaks over him.

 

“You _survived_.” the man smirks, looming over him, grasping his face as if to look him over. “Our Sherry’s lovely drug that according to tests works 100% on all human subjects. Successfully killing _each_ and _every_ _single one_ of them. And out of six lab rats, only _one_ lived—which meant, out of every ten people administered to the drug, _only one_ survives, an extra one is a simple unpredicted, but nonetheless fascinating results. So long as they meet the _requirements_.”

 

_Requirements?_

 

“Did you really think that it was by chance that you lived?” likely seeing the confusion, the man snorts. “Like the original, Sherry’s drug has certain compounds that won’t agree to the subject’s body… _unless_ they have the required _ingredient_ prior to the drug’s ingestion. Sherry survived, _naturally_ , due to her overexposure—but what about _you_ , Shin’ichi-kun who hasn’t even met her then? You couldn’t even hope to be exposed to it— _unless_ , of course, if you have that _ingredient_.”

 

_Ingredient…? But I don’t remember ingesting something prior. What could that have been? Unless… from his implications—_

 

“ _Yes_ … an ingredient only found on specific people, passed down since they are conceived. What do you think that is?” it prickled, and like a spark—the realization snaps into him.

 

_DNA!_

 

“That’s right… the very blood that flows in your veins, the blood from your father—given to him by our _father_. Your grandfather, Shin’ichi-kun. It was really disheartening when your grandmother left him.” Conan would have snapped at him, however, he didn’t even know much about his father’s parents, much less his grandfather—whom his parents seem to be in consensus to _not_ talk about. And that enough had been able to clue him in that his grandfather was likely an unpleasant man.

“You should be grateful, Shin’ichi-kun. If it weren’t for your grandfather and I, the Organization would have killed you since we found you in your little hidey-hole.”

“Who knows about this?” he needed to know, if _Gin_ finds out he’d go after Haibara—and going after Haibara meant that he would.

 

“Hmm… just a few. But that’s not important…” the man infuriatingly shrugs—and he wonders if this was the frustration Kaito— _Kid_ felt when he refused to answer the older teen’s questions.

“Enough of that for now…”

 

“No. What did you mean by—” he curses when the man suddenly grabs his face, his jaws shutting with a sharp click and forcing a tape on his mouth.

 

“I guess, Sherry didn’t tell you everything after all.” he sighed as if disappointed, but something told him—a violent churning and shudder running down his spine—that the man was everything _but_ disappointed of this development. “And you _trusted_ her… I guess she didn’t trust you as much.”

He glares at the man for the flippant remark, tempted to scream protests, _because that wasn’t true!_

 _—_ but further attempts would be pointless until the man decides to take off that _damned tape off his mouth!_ That doesn’t stop him from yelling at him—no matter how strained, nor does it stop him from glaring daggers at the man. He tries again to twist his hands out of the leather binds if there was only some way he could get his wrists and hands slippery enough to slip out.

He doesn’t look away from the man in front of him.

 

“Well, I guess you just have to figure that out Shin’ichi-kun.” the man pauses as if contemplating some choices, apparently making up his mind he adds, “But before that—we can’t be rude. We still have our _guest_ to take care of.”

 

 _Guest?_ The man then walks away to push back the curtains revealing a burly man tied to a chair, a black burlap sack over his face. Smirking, the Organization operative pulls the sack off the foreign man’s head—who immediately notices and stares at him in horror, most likely thinking that he was some hostage the Organization took.

And he knew he was right when his abductor plucks out the headphones from the bound man’s ears. Said man glares at the smirking operative, snarling the moment he took off the gag from his mouth.

 

“It is my pleasure to introduce to you, _Barley_ … or should I say; the MI5’s Andrew Kewell, he came a long way from Britain just to greet us, you know?” from the man’s horrified expression that meant it didn’t bode well for him—and Conan hoped the man didn’t have anything on him that would endanger his colleagues that wouldn’t bode well for anyone involved.

 

 _“What in the bloody hell, and here I thought what could be so important! Unhand me, you are wasting my time. I’m not whoever this Kewell person you claim me to be! I’m not a NOC!”_ the NOC’s accent was thick, clearly a local to where he was, but obviously petty lies weren’t going to work.

Not with _him_ who claims to be his uncle, _not_ when the man’s smirk is just a tilt more sinister, eyes sharper and colder—almost the same look when he and his father are certain they have their prey cornered.

Did that mean this man was his uncle after all? _No_ , he still refuses to acknowledge him as such.

 

 _“Now, now... Andrew—may I call you Andrew? I will call you Andrew.”_ the operative replies in English. _“You can speak Japanese just fine, isn’t it quite rude to our guest?”_ a vague gesture in his direction—however, the snide side-eye told him everything he needed to know. It was an unnecessary warning since he could understand them just fine—but the NOC didn’t know that.

 

He tries twisting and tugging at the straps, but it persisted its grip around his wrists. Andrew starts denying the claims as if he is annoyed that some other operative is falsely accusing him, so he glances about the room, and he notes that his shoes are on a metallic tray on the far table—seeing his rolled up belt and suspenders tells him that they must contain his other gadgets. ( _Which means his traceable phone and the Detective Badge should be there—if his abductor didn’t destroy it._ )

 _If he could just get out of here and get to his gadgets or_ maybe _somehow_ steal the operative’s firearm or weapon—

 

Once again, the man is too close, grasping his face as if he was presenting a product to appeal his potential buyer—and no amounts of squirming made his almost bruising grip let him go.

“Andrew, I’m pretty sure this boy right here looks familiar to you—”

 

 _“What?”_ exactly his sentiment, even with his reputation as Edogawa Conan—he was fairly still considerably unknown to some.

 

“—he’s quite out there; you know? He’s the Sleeping Kogorou’s ward, the famed Kid Killer, the boy who disrupted that tennis match in London…” as the operative rattles off, he could only feel himself sink as if something was determined to pull him under. The NOC is now looking at him with horrified recognition, _how long had they been watching him?_

“… oh and did I mention that he was also the first responder and first discoverer of our one and only Miyano Akemi?”

The was significant, the NOC’s head snapped to him in some sort of realization and he swore the man mouthed _‘Sherry’_ , but the operative continues.

“Yes, highly likely he is housing our dear Sherry.”

 

 _“Why does any of that matter, Sherry is_ dead _. Vermouth confirmed it!”_ with a quirk of the man’s sickening grin, Conan knew that NOC had slipped himself even further—of course, he had tried warning the man with his eyes, but the man only brushed it off as a child’s fear of being kidnapped than an actual warning he should heed. _Hell_ , even Takagi understood that look!

 

“I suppose… but he’s involved now, don’t you agree?”

 

_“Are you out of your mind?! Mouri Kogorou—”_

_Isn’t a threat_ … Conan realizes, why was he misleading the NOC?

 

“Is of no threat to the Organization.”

 

_“The police will—”_

 

“Will be handled.” Andrew glares, but sweat trickled down on the side of his face—and the realization pours over him like a bucket of ice cold water.

 

_He was baiting him!_

 

_“The boy has nothing to do with this, let him go—”_

“When he has seen our faces already? I expected better from you, _Barley_.” Andrew stops—if he truly was a loyal operative, it wouldn’t even have mattered whether or not Shin’ichi looked like a child, or even if the related person was an infant. A loyal codenamed member would _not_ suggest to let him go unless they were certain it wouldn’t shift to them being under scrutiny.

Haibara had warned him enough of that.

“Shame…” he sighs in mock-disappointment, humming as he fishes out a switchblade from his pocket. “And did you really think we wouldn’t know of your treachery, Kewell?” expectedly the NOC moves to deny it, the knife wasn’t pointed on the agent—it was instead on him.

 

_“That is enough! This boy doesn’t even know anything, Absinthe!”_

_Absinthe?_ That’s his codename? Conan didn’t get a chance to hover on the idea any longer, or even when he noticed that _Absinthe_ smacked his lips together in irritation and—

_White, pain, metal slicing through skin and flesh—it hurts…!_

 

 _“Mmmmnggphh!”_ if he could he would have started to swear profusely when the small blade dug into his flesh, striking its grave on his right leg. Breaking his tibia bone—and that _burns_.

He could just barely _breathe_ much less try to think complex thoughts when _pain_ eroded his senses.

He could faintly make out how Barley—or was it Andrew?—yell in the background, as he swore the room _swam_ right before his very eyes, and everything looked hazy that he wondered if the knife was drugged when he knew that it shouldn’t be.

 

His eyes stung when they watered in response to the pain, but none of them actually trailed down his cheeks, and the room just stopped spinning, starting to clear up—his ears stopped ringing and he could hear them again.

The MI5 agent was yelling heatedly at the laughing madman, the NOC’s yelling was close to overpowering the psycho’s guffaws that it made the ringing in his ears return somewhat accompanied by a dull throbbing in the back of his head from overstimulation. Squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to pace himself and alleviate the concocted pain, he didn’t see it until it was too late.

 

This time his head exploded in sharp tingling pain, snapping to the side in retaliation to him being smacked on the head, forcing him to try and heave a breath through his nose when it proved that his mouth wasn’t quite able to do so. Whatever it was that Absinthe mockingly taunted to the NOC remained intangibly muffled to his now ringing ears, his vision reduced to blobs and spots making it impossible to read lips.

However, the obvious shift in demeanor, Andrew wasn’t pretending anymore, glaring daggers at the operative that started laughing—judging by his shaking shoulders. The NOC moves to shift him on the bed, forcing him to uncurl from his fetal position, shushing him like a father would comforting his crying child.

 

His vision would swim in and out of focus, his hearing alternating between muffled noises and piercing shrill ringing, and his lungs felt like they were drowning on air, unable to breathe properly—-when he became more coherent Absinthe most likely noticed because he sent a snide smirk his way, moving towards the table that held his gadgets.

“You know, Andrew… you’re right. Mouri Kogorou will be joining the manhunt in search of this boy, as I expect other intelligence agencies will. I have _no reason_ keeping _you_ alive…” the man hums, picking up one of his power shoes, “I wonder, have you tried the maximum setting on this, Shin’ichi-kun?” with his attention directed on his _“nephew”_ —Andrew’s face scrunched up in confusion.

Conan—he was _Conan_ right now, didn’t answer—not that he could, but he wouldn’t anyway. After the Professor’s upgrade, even half power could take down a full-grown tree, and eradicate a wall— _there was no way he was going to even try the full power_ —especially against humans, even if they were criminals.

 

And that sinking feeling from earlier returned ten-fold, there was no way this man— _this monster_ —would let the NOC go _alive_.

“No? Well, let’s find out shall we?” for once, he dreaded to hear the familiar near inaudible clicks of the dial and the phantom sensation of it vibrating on his foot that he could hear the machine revving up.

The MI5 agent was notably growing anxious, demanding answers—questions that went through one ear and straight through the other.

“Oh, and one more thing. Andrew?” the man stops staring at his murderer-to-be. _“You’re wrong, this has everything to do with my nephew.”_

 

Andrew's eyes widened in horror, paling an ashen white as he directed his gaze back on the bound boy, his lips mouthing a silent, _‘Nephew?’_ his entire focus tunneling on Conan that he didn’t even notice Absinthe’s approach—a secure grip around the shoe and raise it up high.

 

_No… STOP!_

 

With a mad laugh, Absinthe swung it down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **(I was gonna go for a ball-gag…** but… well, that turned out. You know. [ _I swear, I’m not averse to sexual content._ ] I just don’t want to send the wrong message. So, yes, I changed it to a roll of duct tape—which I believe isn’t much better, but hey.  
> Limited options here, I wasn’t going to make the guy do a makeshift gag with a handkerchief on _Conan_. Of all people.
> 
> Also, I was going to finish this sooner, but Barley was boring the hell out of my mind… so… yeah. [ _But at least I don’t have to deal with him anymore, thank god._ ]  
> Trust me, me and boredom, plus deadlines? Those never agree, nuh-huh… unless you want to cut this fic ten chapters short…
> 
> [ _Also, on another note… got a new OTP—who knew Diana and Lara could be adorable and hot together?_  
>  _Was also distracted by a mountain of memes. Oh well._
> 
>  _And instead of being a good girl, I was caught in my own hypes, of making previews for **DCMK Revisions** , though I didn’t type them in order._ Typing them _in order_? Where’s the fun in that?]
> 
> And _yes_ , I do in fact, have an issue with constantly fantasizing hurting my favorite characters, whether it’s to see how the other characters’ react, or for the sake of just hurting the character.
> 
>  
> 
> **Until the next chapter~  
> **  
>  **Adieu.  
> **  
>  **—DescriptivePessimism-DAA)**


	12. XI

 

> **|XI|**

It was infuriating how they still have nothing even when dawn had broken through the ungodly hours of the night. Not even the usual miracle workers of the case had found anything significant, no leads on where the culprit took Conan—and as if it wasn’t daunting enough, it had nearly been nine hours since the report was filed. Ran had passed out at her mother’s prompt, accompanied by her friends—one of whom (Sonoko) complained that some high school detectives weren’t responding; Kudou and Sera.

Almost two hours since Hattori and his childhood friend arrived, and three since the Professor, the FBI, and the PSB arrived and aided their investigation. From Satou and Takagi’s reports, the FBI and PSB were obviously collaborating—that alone told him there was something else that they didn’t _see_. Any attempts of prying information were shot down with stubborn bullheadedness.

As much as Megure would want to demand the information _now_ , they all seemed to have a hunted look that made _him_ wary, not to mention—the Professor’s charge, the girl that could always catch up with Conan’s thought process would often send paranoid looks around the place, even though they had already retreated in the station.

 

 _Hattori_ seemed to know the significance of their silence and _sided_ with them—further serving to infuriate them. The Professor was with them too, they only gave vague directions, backed by both the FBI and PSB on what should be the preferred course of action to take.

 

They all practically stared when Hattori moved to whisper something to the formerly fuming girl—yesterday; when apparently tracking Conan through his phone and other gadgets turned out to be a vain effort. She hissed something at him and kicked his shin in emphasis before she huffs plopping down. Whatever it was she said also reflected the distraught on the Osakan’s face.

 

“They should just tell us… we could figure something out.” Takagi murmurs next to him, and Satou nods with a grim hum. But they were all exhausted from peeling their eyes open to keep track of every single vehicle that drove around the assumed time of the suspect’s getaway—the only thing that would most likely rejuvenate them would be a new lead in the case or something equally gruesome taking place.

They have heard nothing from the suspect either, which told them this was no ransom kidnapping—from what Takagi gathered from the Professor’s conversation with the FBI, apparently Conan’s parents were on their way and would be expected around noon.

 

The witness, Kuroba Kaito had told them everything he’d seen—and while it was weird for him to be typically there (Kid fan or not), they were ready to take whatever information he could give. And Hakuba Saguru—his classmate and another high school detective was dedicating all his efforts to comfort the teen for not being able to do anything.

Megure himself didn’t blame the teen for freezing when he saw someone shooting _a child_ , anyone would freeze at the sight of that. It was natural and had it not been for the witness they would have only found out about the kidnapping when it was already likely too late.

 

It doesn’t help that apparently the surveillance cameras were removed by the owner when the men he hired for the security check-up said that they were defective and the replacement hadn’t been provided yet. He had apparently called another company to replace it, and they did replace it just two nights before, only _now_ they find out that the cameras had been disabled just a few hours before the heist and removed. Whether it was Kid’s work or the suspect, it was still unknown—or so he’d like to think.

The expression on the FBI, the PSB, the Professor, Hattori, and Haibara had been telling enough.

 

Which lead him to question, _just who was this suspect_ that they all seem to fear? It doesn’t help that they didn’t seem comfortable with the fact when one of them gets out of their sights for far too long, an observation that reminded Megure awfully of a Witness Protection Program procedure— _no way_ , that was insane.

That implied they were up against a group of _organized_ criminals, organized enough to be able to pull this off directly under the noses of the police. If Conan was a target, it was likely anyone he made a connection with are targeted too—

—that’s a frightening thought.

 

As of now, they have no choice but to wait for new leads. Heaving a sigh, he looks at the bags under their eyes.

“Takagi, Chiba take a two-hour break, Satou and Shiratori will switch with you.”

 

“Yes… what about you Megure-keibu?” Takagi ever the soft bleeding heart asks in concern, his team mirroring the man’s look.

 

“I’ll take it on your last hour and on Satou and Shiratori’s first hour.” they all nodded albeit reluctantly. He still needed to tell some of the others to get some rest—there was no way they could operate properly without it.

 

…

 

“I’m surprised that the FBI is awfully invested.” Kazami remarks from the other bench, heaving a tired and exhausted sigh.

Akai chuckles—while still in his disguise, he had already switched off the voice changer and stopped pretending that he needed the glasses, though he hasn’t removed them, he had shown more than enough people to prove that he wasn’t just an average and your day-to-day undergrad student.

Not to mention the other lower FBI members had responded to his instruction like they would to a superior. It had been telling enough.

 

"Of course, he is an important and precious comrade." Kazami stares at him.

 

“Even if he’s a child?” the man tests, and Akai knows that in that case, Kazami had the pleasure of meeting the brilliant side that the boy usually deigns to conceal, and that fact alone was making him contemplate the pros and cons of sharing a particular piece of information that he knows the PSB lacked unless Furuya tattled to his Superiors.

From his observations, Kazami was the type of man that would investigate a matter for as long as it is necessary, and if he’s ordered to stop he will, regardless of his personal attachment to the case. And Akai can’t have that, a new face would be suspicious and it would just make him wary. He could not explain the boy’s vitality to the case without enough emphasis on his retrieval or revealing his identity.

To others, he’ll be an obnoxious boy that loves playing detective and scoring on by fluke. To the ones under constant exposure, they know once he acts up, it actually does mean something on the case.

Furuya was also a gamble, he did not know whether or not the man would find it beneficial to retrieve the boy alive compared to immediately bring down the Organization.

(Absinthe kidnapping the boy meant something, _but what?_ )

 

“One can hardly deny the results he can produce.” Kazami wryly chuckles at that, clearly knowing what he meant—however, Akai doubts he knows the extent of what the boy can do. Deciding to take the risk, he adds, before Kazami could retort his affirmative. Watching the man carefully.

“And… I owe him my life.” Kazami, expectedly, froze, eyes widening as shock filtered through his expression, paling an ashen white as the implications finally connected—and with a sharp turn the man quietly excuses himself, fishing his phone out—and it would have likely clicked in protest had he used one of the older flip-phone models.

But that was fine, it was a calculated risk, to assure that the man was on their side in the boy’s retrieval.

 

“Shuu?” Jodie voices her concern right next to him, no doubt having caught her attention when Kazami suddenly snapped as he did. Jodie was already worried enough he did not need to raise her worries.

 

“It’s nothing just a talk with brews…” he makes up on the spot, at this rate it was dangerous to keep the NOCs inside the Organization, but it was also far too dangerous to pull them out, not to mention at this situation he’d actually rather have them inside—however, Absinthe was a particularly tricky operative—

_Clever, just like the boy…_

 

And his brows furrowed, the nudging feeling from yesterday came back. Looking around the room, he notes that he had let one person slip his radar.

“Jodie, where’s the witness?” the witness was most likely Kaitou Kid

 

“Kuroba-kun? He excused himself earlier to take a call.” Akai was sorely tempted to smack his lips but stops himself.

 

“Where?”

 

“He went inside the break room, I think.”

While he didn’t like the fact that the teen was alone and the looming threat of the Organization just blackmailing him to cooperate was still fresh in his mind from previous actions of Absinthe. However, seeing as the boy was along and in an area, he couldn’t escape without anyone noticing—Kaitou Kid or not—was good, he needed to talk to the teen anyway.

-

As Jodie said, the boy was indeed inside the break room just hanging up.

 

“Would you be so kind as to tell me who that was?” the teen twitches, an aborted jolt in motion as he rigidly turned to face him, a fierce glare on his face.

 

“Why should I tell you?”

 

“Don’t be alarmed, I’m just making sure the person that kidnapped the boy won’t try anything on you.” Kuroba expectedly shifts.

 

“You knew who that man was…” he growls, and Akai knew had the boy have lesser control on his temper like that Osakan high school detective, he would have lunged at him, grabbed on his collar in attempt to shake the answers out of him. However, the boy refrains himself. “… why won’t you tell us?”

 

“The same reason as to why you haven’t told anyone you’re actually a certain magician moonlighting even past the time you should be gallivanting around the police.”

 

“I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about…” the boy huffs—plausible deniability and all.

 

“I didn’t come here to talk to Kuroba Kaito, I came here to talk with the witness of that night. Will you tell me everything in detail without the omission? Even before he was taken, anything, you never know what could help.”

Akai watches as Kuroba’s brows furrowed, clearly weighing the consequences of such actions, and he waits patiently—it shouldn’t be long before the teen decides to spill.

(Even if that time wasn't right now.)

 

…

 

Yuusaku didn’t feel any sense of shame, when his wife practically strode past the crowd exuding a rare dark aura that made everyone, people even with half-sense of self-preservation give them a wide berth, practically flinging themselves out of the way as Yukiko marched on, roughly dragging a large trolley suitcase behind her.

The transportation service that was assigned to pick them up, was already parked and the driver took one look at them, then at his silently fuming wife—and immediately fumbled to open the door for her, as if in fear she would rip it off its hinges, it would have been comical, had he not shared his wife’s current ire. Taking the luggage to quickly load it in the trunk compartment.

When both of them were seated, the man closes the door behind him, rushing to seat himself on the driver’s seat.

“To Beika—” Yukiko doesn’t even bat an eyelash to glare at the man via rearview mirror with a sharp snap of her own.

 

“No, we’re expecting one more person, we’ll wait for her and _then_ you’ll take us immediately to Beika City’s District 2, Block 21 to drop off our luggage, then you’re taking us to the Police Headquarters, understood?”

 

“Y-yes, ma’am!” leaving that to her, he fishes his phone out to make more calls, having already seen his best friend’s wife approach.

 

…

 

Megure was awoken hours later—and he would make his ire known for letting him sleep in, however that wasn’t important, it was noon—which should be around the time Conan’s parents would arrive, and he’d rather be there when they lay it out before them.

(He also wants to get a feel on the parents that birthed the young genius.)

—instead of Conan’s parents though, it was Kudou Yuusaku and his wife; who looked seconds away from flipping his base upside down, accompanied by another woman with a shoulder-length hair—who immediately went for the witness with a worried near-silent exclaim of the teen’s name. When the former actress didn’t look like she would calm down soon enough he hurriedly and met up with the couple, and as soon as his presence was noted, two pairs of sharp sapphire blue eyes glare into his own.

For once, Kudou Yukiko didn’t have a bubbly smiling exterior—he had seen the woman annoyed, pouting playfully at her husband, but this one felt like he was facing a seething predator that had just been wronged. He wasn’t looking forward to this.

-

Megure heaved a heavy sigh, exhausted despite the fact that he had slept for some hours due to his colleague’s blatant disobedience. Yet, for once he’s actually thankful for the extended time lest he’d actually be even more drained as he was right now. It had been unnerving despite the woman’s lack of vocal input to their conversation—however, her sharp cold glare was enough to actually tempt a man to backtrack, turn on their heels and run away.

As it were, he had been left to deal with Yuusaku’s clipped tones that only spoke when necessary—he had never dealt with this type of his friend before, however, seeing as the victim was the man’s close relative it was obvious that the man was very much affected, and much like his wife, heavily invested in the boy’s well-being.

 

Apparently Conan’s parents’ flight were delayed, and Megure would have demanded why didn’t they just go together with the Kudou’s—wanting desperately to give the couple a stern talking to, because it is becoming apparent that they’re actually negligent, and from the exchanged glances of his officers, they all shared the sentiment that the boy did not deserve such treatment.

—however that wasn’t important, what was important was for them to round up any possible suspect—that for some reason was shot down by Yuusaku himself, instead deferring and agreeing to the PSB and FBI’s methods.

 

That served one more point on the fact that whatever this case was, it wasn’t their first time dealing with it.

 

“Keibu, if you’ll excuse me, I need to talk to Kaito-kun and his mother for a while.’ Megure is left staring at the detective that didn’t even wait for a response before walking down the hall, saying something lowly to the teen, before gesturing for Subaru and Kazami to follow him, but none of the others and Megure would have been offended had Yukiko not pipe up right next to him.

 

“This is merely a precaution, Megure-keibu. I know that you’re worried and frustrated too, but please… trust us on this.” she says, her tone even and stern and Megure finds himself astounded by the sheer fact that she also operated like Haibara and the other secret intelligence agents, scanning around the room, her eyes narrowed as if picking out anything or _anyone_ odd, and gauging them.

 

And Megure leaves her to it, only for his thoughts to spiral down, glaring at the evidence they gathered—or rather the _lack_ of said evidence gathered. Mentally analyzing the crime scene again in his head and mentally noting that he should check the surveillance footage after the officers get through it; though he’ll have to check them all over with Shiratori and Satou for a secondary sweep.

It wasn’t even an hour later, Yuusaku and the others that went with him coming back when a phone rings, and Takagi is yelling.

 

“Megure-keibu! A body has been spotted on a construction site!” Megure groans and growls, he really wished no other case would pop up, they already have their hands full—at this rate the case might be passed on to Division 2, and they’re already involved, if seething on the next conference room under the PSB and FBI’s recommendation.

“The first discoverer said the man’s head is bashed in, likely an accident.”

 

 _Damnit_. Megure rubs his temple, glancing at the others in the area—noting how Ran woke up, and how almost all of the others perked up in attention, despite the fact that they slightly concealed, eyes narrowed and despite the fact that they have just been informed, they had a grim _knowing_ glint in their eyes.

 

…

 

Akai cursed, sharing a nod with James, and he leaves along with Kazami, and Megure, Chiba, and Takagi to the crime scene.

The moment he stepped on the construction site, the forensic agent already delivering his rapport to the Inspector, a glance at the scene and at the corpse, his suspicions are confirmed.

 

“… the man had likely loss balance and fell off, bashing his head in.”

 

“So, this is an accident?” the Inspector sighs, clearly also wanting to retreat back to the boy’s kidnapping case, and Akai would share his sentiment—however, Akai knew a piece of information that the portly inspector didn’t. He allows his eyes to meet with Kazami’s, who nodded in acknowledgment. Despite knowing otherwise, he lets the forensic officers wrap up the scene and take the body to the Headquarters, he doesn’t even say anything when Megure and his officers glanced at him and Kazami with apprehension.

He waits, and as soon as they return to the Headquarters, he squares his shoulders and as if cued, an officer tells them to report to one of the conference rooms.

 

He expects the fact that he and the NPA’s Superintendent Kuroda makes eye contact with him and Kazami, the man looking at them expectantly. Kuroda gives them a slow nod, and Kazami speaks.

 

“Code Lost Boys has been activated.” Akai knew it was coming, but he grits his teeth and balls his fist, mind flashing back to the crime scene—or rather the _false_ scene—from earlier and the incriminating footage he caught glimpse of yesterday.

Recognizing the handiwork from his first-hand experience with it, even if he was still operating as a NOC at that time.

 

Absinthe was moving, and that was enough incentive to get him moving, disguised and having faked his death or not—the fact that Absinthe took the boy meant _he knew_. And it didn’t help that Absinthe had around the same cleverness in plots as did the boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **(I hate my computer at times… *sighs*** Akai and Kazami’s scene was half deleted, and Akai and Kaito’s scene was completely gone… all because it suddenly crashed while I was typing and when I opened my computer again, there wasn’t even a recovery file… not even my every pause at sentences, and save, saved it…  
>  _Damn it…_ I wanna cry.
> 
> [ _Though I would also be at fault for having Windows Media Player, VLC Player, multiple tabs with multiple windows of Chrome, Sai Paint Tool, a bunch of folders, together with a bunch of open Microsoft files open **at the same time**._]
> 
>  **Until the next chapter**  
>  **Adieu.**  
>  **—DescriptivePessimism-DAA)**  
>  [As mentioned in DCMK Revisions… I apologize for not leaving a forewarning, but here it is… the long-awaited Chapter 11!—maybe?  
> I was gonna post this yesterday, but I fell asleep mid-way. So, here it is!]


	13. XII: (You say) It's the Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **  
>  **   
>  _There are two dozens of Lost Boys._   
> 

 

> **|** **真実と言う** **|**

 

“Code Lost Boys has been activated.” Heiji looks at that PSB officer, and at once, the Superintendent, the FBI, the PSB, and the Little Neechan tensed up. The former switching to a more grim and hardened exterior—and the Little Neechan practically sways, eyes wide in _fear_.

They knew what was going on, a glance at Kudou’s parents told him that they did too— _wait_ , they _knew_? But _how_?

 

“Then I expect the FBI will inform the CIA?” that creepy Superintendent doesn’t even turn to look at that English teacher poser, Jodie, nor James— _no_ , he turns to face that pink haired guy who lives in Kudou’s house.

 

“We have already sent a warning.” Kuroda then turns to Kudou’s father, who nods as sternly and stoically.

 

“I have already made contact with the ICPO…” _he did WHAT now?!_ “…they will be informing the remaining other secret intelligence agencies.” Heiji stares at Kudou’s father, whom he knows is a _mystery novel author_ , and that he went through a few detective phases,  _but_ never officially—and _yet_ he has connections with such—!

 

“Hold on a second… what is this Code R-ro-ostu Boi-i-zu are you referring to?” Megure-keibu-han asks, and Heiji agrees—this is the first time he’s heard of it.

 

And he watches as those apparently in-the-know look at them, exchanging eye contacts—though, the Superintendent remained fixed in his expression and unmoving—a group of nods and Kudou’s father speaks up.

 

“Before we get to that… we will have to inform you of this case from the beginning.”

 

…

 

Bourbon stares with apprehension as Vermouth gestured him to follow her inside some small shack, and he watches with some confused interest as she seems determined to turn the place inside out with how much stuff she was pulling out from some cabinets.

 

“Do you need any help?” he asks, making sure to keep the uncertainty out of his voice—

 

“Shut up, just sit there and look pretty.”

 

 _What?_ So, he keeps quiet and watches how she ransacked the place with a thinly veiled frustration.

 

…

 

“I’m listening…” Megure responds, and Saguru sees the other Police Detectives straightening up, determined to receive information. Looking around the room, he sees that anyone outside of the people who seemed to know what they were doing earlier paid close attention, even Hattori Heiji.

 

“Before any of that, I’ll make it clear that the one that kidnapped Conan-kun yesterday, is part of this Underground Organization—”

 

“Hold on, you knew the existence of some underground Organization and you didn’t tell us?!” Nakamori explodes across the room, slamming his hands on the table. The stern stare down he received from Kudou Yuusaku was so berating and cold that it reminded Saguru when his father was disappointed with him when he was still a child. Nakamori twitched but didn’t cow down.

 

“The fact that you labeled that case earlier an accident was enough proof that we couldn’t really put it out up front.” Kudou Yukiko responds, voice utterly flat—that Saguru actually felt chills crawling down his spine. “It was something that the ICPO issued as only for the secret intelligence to be in the know.”

 

“And the PSB decided to keep the issue down and under the wraps.” Superintendent Kuroda adds as an agreement to her statement. “Now, what you must know that these men working for this Organization are no ordinary members, they’re serial killers who can cover their trails even better than the standard clean-up team. They have their hands poked anywhere and everywhere.

These men dressed in black lurking around town. No identities but codenames only the dead has heard.” Megure’s brows furrowed, eyes narrowing deep in thought.

 

“Those two men during the murder in the Mystery Coaster…” that piqued Saguru’s interest, especially since Ran perked up. And Kuroda nods.

 

“Them, the bombing of that game center, the bombing in the Twin Tower Buildings… Matsumoto’s imposter’s killers.”

 

“But wasn’t that an electronic failure?” Takagi asks, tone soft and uncertain—in sync, Haibara along with the FBI and PSB shook their heads.

 

“Unfortunately, it was one of the two higher operatives.” Subaru responds, and James behind him nods.

 

“In the organization—they also have a system, the higher your rank, and you’ll receive codenames… Jodie-kun.” Saguru’s then swivels to the woman who nods in response, taking out a flash drive and setting up a computer—then connecting that to a projector.

A few minutes later the projector is switched on, and he sees a candid photo of a red-haired woman in a black rider suit, lugging an instrument bag on her shoulder in some crowded area. Eyes squinted upwards, and a butterfly tattoo around her right eye.

 

“This is Chianti…” Jodie is the one to speak, and she slowly moves them with the listing of both deceased and surviving members of the Organizations, sometimes switching turns with the other two FBI agents that seem close to the superior and Subaru.

As they are scrolling through pictures, stating alcoholic codenames, Kaito watching with earnest attention right next to him—and suddenly, he tenses. There’s also a gasp from the Mouri’s and the other police detectives at the next photo—a tanned blonde man with a welcoming smile, a dark colored apron on him.

 

“This is Bourbon, or as you all may know him as, Amuro Tooru.”

 

“You’re kidding!” Detective Mouri exclaims, voice shaking and face ashen pale—while his daughter seems to want to breakdown crying. Glancing next to him, he sees Kaito glare at the man with such icy cold hostility borderline uncharacteristic—had Hakuba not seen him how he talked about Snake and his men in the most detached manner, if it weren’t for his eyes, Hakuba would have said he wasn’t as affected.

 

“Not at all.” Subaru responds without even giving away a hint of hesitation.

 

“Someone get a police car and get him here for questioning—!”

 

“It’s useless…!” Ran cries, sharp sobs escaping her as she sinks to the floor next to her father, her mother catching her. “Azusa-san said that he took an indefinite leave since two-days ago… he’s phone can’t be contacted either.”

 

 _That_ didn’t bode well for them… a look around the room told him the same.

 

“Why didn’t you tell us?!” Kogorou demands, and if his family wasn’t blocking his way—he likely would have lunged for the man.

 

 _“Need not to know.”_ Subaru then opens his eyes to reveal a pair of dark green eyes to stare challengingly at the detective. “And Conan-kun had it handled.”

 

_He what…?_

 

“Yes, that boy handled sniffing Bourbon out so well.” Kuroda praised, and Saguru is hit with a bout of nausea at the implications.

 

“You let a child in your operations?!” almost everyone, except for the Kudous, Hattori, Haibara, the Professor, and the secret agents exclaimed. Not even Kuroba’s mother—though Kaito himself reacted.

 

“He was already involved, he even got in our way because we got in his way—and he managed to intervene when he thought the FBI was one of the Organization.” James said as if he was appeasing them, and that made Saguru even more nauseous. The thought of a child—prodigy or not—standing up alone to those type of men made him want to vomit. Even Kaito was too young in his book of consideration.

 

“He even suspected _I_ was a member…” Jodie adds while showing her badge. But considering the fact that they were moving as discretely as possible, while still making moves—he could understand the boy’s wariness. Even partly helping Kaito had made him even warier and more anxious.

Knowing such a threat loomed around was hell for a person’s paranoia.

 

“However, there’s not a need for apprehension.” Kuroda starts. “As _Okiya Subaru_ -kun has done in the past, Bourbon is a NOC sanctioned by the PSB.”

Opening that topic brought on a whole new can of worms. And the reveal that Kaito isn’t actually the only one who can do a realistic disguise.

 

…

 

Masumi narrows her eyes at the sight of the empty seats of both Sonoko and Ran’s. Not to mention the lack of contact from both, at lunch break she immediately fishes her phone out only to see the daunting black screen that wouldn’t respond— _damnit_.

She _forgot_ to charge her phone, tucking her hand in her pocket she slouches her way back to her class to grab her book bag. She’d been having a sense of dread lately, Sonoko and Ran’s absences just made it worse, with a quick-bullshit of an excuse to one of her stray classmates, she quickly leaves the campus.

 

While walking around, she couldn’t help but glance around—feeling like something had changed, despite the lack of tangible and visible proof as of the moment.

 

When the sensation didn’t abate, she immediately rushes back to the hotel.

 

Something had happened, she needed to contact Ran and Shin’ichi… and _fast._

 

…

 

“Now, these are members to watch out for…” Jodie continues—and Heiji shakes off the last of the chill in his spine after witness Subaru—Moroboshi Dai, _Rye—Akai Shuuichi_ wipes and rips off his disguise. While Hattori knew that was possible, seeing it done slowly—as if the man was being gentle—just made his spine crawl uneasily.

So, to take his mind off of that, he pays attention to the next candid shot of a burly guy.

 

“This is Vodka…” the moment the name is mention he zooms in on the guy’s face—however with how blurry it is, he can barely make out the man’s identifying features. “…while, he isn’t really that much of a higher rank—wherever he goes… _Gin_ is not far behind. Gin is the one you have to watch out for.” Jodie says as she presses the switch and the photo changes. And as Kudou described it is a long-haired platinum blonde guy.

Takagi, Megure and Ran gasps in recognition.

 

“He was at the murder in the Mystery Coaster!”

 

“That was the last case Kudou-kun solved before he started asking to keep his involvement under the wraps!” Megure adds, and Heiji could just _see_ them connecting the dots, and the portly inspector and the karateka are turning to both Kudou’s parents.

 

“Shin’ichi, he—!” Kudou’s father heaves a sigh and nods.

 

“Yes, this was when my son got involved. They tried to kill him that night, he managed to get away, _however,_ they are convinced they _killed_ him.” Ran whines, a choked off sob before she turns to him.

 

“Where is he now?! He can help with Conan-kun—” Heiji bites his lower lip, _how in the hell could Kudou help himself out of this situation?!_ Had it been any other kidnapper, he knew Kudou would’ve found a way to handle it, but as it is

These men weren’t your regular criminals—Kudou had warned him enough.

 

“Unfortunately, we can’t contact Shin’ichi either… either he got caught—or he’s in a particularly sticky situation.” Yuusaku wasn’t even lying, and the implications alone were daunting enough that it sent a sense of dread all over the room. He could see how neither the FBI and PSB were informed of this—except for Akai Shuuichi, _of course_ , the man had lived in the Kudou Mansion and had apparently personally witnessed how Kudou worked even as his midget self.

 

“You let your son—” Yukiko’s frustrated glare and teary eyes told him enough.

 

“Please, Jodie-san continue.” Yuusaku says instead, and Heiji balls his fist when he hears Ran break down once more, next to him Kazuha whimpers as she buries her head against his shoulder—hands wrapping painfully around his wrist—likely recalling that case in Osaka where Kudou risked his own life for him in both forms. (Even if she didn’t quite know the truth.)

Jodie hesitates for a brief second, but continues—and he recognizes Vermouth on sight. The others apparently did too, _of course_ , she’s a popular actress. Both as Sharon and Chris Vineyard—even if the FBI lady omitted the former.

(Hattori agrees, the fact that the woman hadn’t aged was unsettling, and it would raise more questions than it’s worth.)

 

“After her… we have Absinthe.”

 

 _That one’s new_. Heiji realizes with a start—and he studies the image of the man draped in shadows, an oddly-familiar but _off_ , infuriating smirk in place. A screenshot from the surveillance footage, judging from the quality—and it’s unsettling, how unlike the others (except for Vermouths) he blatantly faced the camera, a large duffel bag resting on his hip.

 _As if he was expecting this_ like he predicted _this_ would happen. A stray glance informs him of the time and date, and something cold settles in him. Making it feel like the world was spinning around him.

 

And it wasn’t just him either.

 

“Kuroba?” Hakuba’s voice sounded far— _muffled_. And Heiji hopes he’s wro—

 

“That’s _him_.” Kuroba Kaito, the witness says. Heiji watches as the beading tears in Yukiko’s face immediately streams down, a hitched sob—and Kudou’s father’s face _blanks_ but he continues.

 

“He’s _Code Lost Boys_ …” Heiji wanted to know what that entailed though. “… it is when he targets, and gets rid of most NOCs in the organization and the people they’re acquainted with and disguises it as accidents. Family, friends, lover, close colleagues… no one’s spared.”

 

_That wasn’t **good** …_

“The body we found earlier was a NOC codenamed Barley. His real name is Andrew Kewell, an MI5 operative. And he’ll be the first count—together with his acquaintances, there’ll be twenty-three more NOCs to go.”

 

“And not far behind the Organization’s Number 2, _Rum_.” Akai Shuuichi adds.

 

This time, there was no photograph.

 

…

 

Conan tries to ease his breathing, the pain still resonating in his leg—and the sight of the knife still protruding on his leg, still deep inside the grave it dug, reminded him of the reverbing pain in it. Glaring at the man—Absinthe, who is humming off the side, while some other operatives dressed in searing white—likely the cleanup group—cleans the room. Though ignoring him.

Then Absinthe turns to him and he makes a noise of realization, that honestly just irks him.

 

“Oh, right, you still have that… here, let me.” Absinthe grabs the handle and tries to pull it out—and _was it just him or did the knife feel snug against his flesh—_

 

“Nggghhh…!” Absinthe didn’t just simply pull it out, _no_ —the sadist he is; moved it around before roughly pulling it out and dropping the knife—making it clack and clatter loudly on the ground, catching one of the cleaner’s attention who immediately hurried to clean it up.

 

“Leave the shoe will you? Just get rid of the blood, but put the shoe back.” Absinthe says as he dismisses the frantic cleaner—before turning his attention back to him. Or more specifically, his _wound_. Grasping the injured leg and sending another wave of pain from it.

 _Of course_ , he would smirk at his pained hiss, then the man resumes studying his leg like it was some sort of note-worthy specimen for a few seconds—and almost unexpectedly, he smacks his lips in annoyance.

 

“Still way too slow…” that caught his attention, _what was way too slow_ —

 

An ever familiar click and a barrel of a gun is pressing against his chest.

 

“Let’s rush things up, shall we~?” Absinthe smirks at him, finger lightly touching the trigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **(I finally understood what was messing me up on this chapter…** and well, you can say I did just throw the guidelines out the window—okay, _just kidding_ , I _didn’t_ throw it out the window (guys don’t litter, throw your garbage in the proper bins, please)… I didn’t follow it though.  
> Thankfully the internet connection has fixed itself.  
> I was gonna have Jodie use some print-out photos, but it’s like they’ve expected the reveal and like they’re overly prepared? And I remember what age it is, so I switched to a flash drive, laptop (computer, because it’s Hakuba), and a projector. (Which is also more believable to have ready on hand.)
> 
> I know they should be doing raids and shit, but they can’t do that without being informed of what they’re up against… sorry if this is frustrating you guys. [ _Not sorry_ ]
> 
> Also, I know that Shin’ichi’s parents stayed in Japan for Shin’ichi during the Search for Maria-chan, but since the break-out of “Shin’ichi solves a case” didn’t happen, there was no reason for them to pull strings to do so.
> 
> Also, also… do you know how hard it is for me to not abuse the _“That’s not good…”_ phrase? I have to literally stare at it for a few minutes—hours even—to come up with a similar term. Hell, I could even just say screw it and make it the new title, because everything in here is the epitome of: _“That’s not good…”_ XD
> 
>  _Also,_ I need help (on describing clothes, and action/fight scenes, I suck. Tips anyone?)
> 
>  
> 
> **Until the next chapter**  
>  **Adieu.**  
>  **—DescriptivePessimism-DAA)**
> 
> PS. _Shit!_ It's Moroboshi Dai!! Damnit... sorry about that... Chapter 13 will be up soon...


	14. XIII

> **|XIII|**

 

“Let’s rush things up, shall we~?” Absinthe smirks at him, finger lightly touching the trigger, and Conan could see the very minute motion as the man moved to squeeze it—

 

**_“Karasu naze naku no…?”_ **

A sharp crank, followed by the song’s ever-familiar tune even with the orgel version, echoed in the room. Breaking the tension…

…and Absinthe makes a noise that’s part groan and part moan of disappointment—and he’s pulling away to fish his phone out of his pocket, swiping his thumb against the screen and putting it against his ear to respond almost grumpily.

 

“Yes…?” he drawls, like a spoiled child that’s been called away from his game—and with his antics earlier, he might as well be.

Conan heaves a sigh he hadn’t noticed he’s been holding—eyeing the man’s odd posture. The man was standing straight, shoulders squared, but something looked odd with it—as if he was more used to slouch.

“Yes, I’m with him right now… _yes_ , I just got rid of— _what_? _Yes_ , of course… who do you think I a—of course…” Conan then shifts his torso—careful not to jostle his leg, lest he catches his attention, while still keeping the man in his peripherals.

 

Once more testing the leather binds around his wrists, then the ones around his left leg—but of course, there was no way he couldn’t accidentally move his injured leg that felt awfully numb and stung at times—that wasn’t all, it also felt like the soreness and numbness was crawling all over it.

Risking a glance at his leg, he blinks in confusion.

 

 _Was it adrenaline…?_ He wonders, shifting his injured leg—and his suspicion is confirmed, _some_ of the numbness and the pain had gone away.

 

_Almost like…_

 

…

 

Bourbon watches with a small sense of fascination and interest—it was the first time he saw _Vermouth_ so… _unhinged_. Her long hair had long since been pulled into a ragged high pony-tail, face seemingly twisted in a permanent scowl. As she pushed folders and papers _after papers_ into a large office box, covering it the moment they’re almost full—to not obstruct the handle’s function. And like the other boxes (the first one filled with some random objects, while the second one also held a bunch of papers like the third) Vermouth plops it on the couch next to him. Where she dragged and pushed him onto—claiming he was in the way.

 

Then she’s speeding off, grabbing a large duffel bag this time. And he hears more clatter from the next room.

 

He was debating whether or not to check the contents of the papers in the boxes, as it was _right next to him_ , surely Vermouth knew just how much of a curiosity-ridden man he is?

 

He had just about made a quick decision; just a _tiny_ peak really wouldn’t be noticeable— _not with how frazzled Vermouth is_ —

When his phone buzzes in his pocket, checking to see if she was still occupied he draws his phone out of his pocket to tap on the code and to open the notification.

 

It was Kazami.

 

His eyes widened.

 

…

 

Vermouth knew that she was likely getting ahead of herself here, there was no guarantee that her hopeful prediction would come true—however it can’t hurt to make sure, _right?_

She knew the chances were low, it always has been, and as much as she didn’t want to subject him to it—if it had to be done. She had to do it.

 

It was for his safety.

 

For him, she’d do anything, _He,_ on the other hand, can rot in hell for all she cared.

 

Shaking the thoughts off, she grabs the other packs of fresh clothing and pushes those inside the bag, a glance at the other things in the room, she makes a split-second decision to include those. Her phone vibrates, taking a glance she hums.

 

“Let’s hope you know what you’re doing…” she whispers before she selects some files in her phone to send it to her contact.

With _Absinthe_ on the move, she knew she couldn’t do much— _He_ would be way too invested in this. And despite her mortality rate—or the lack thereof—she could operate better under _His_ radar.

 

And if she’s under _His_ radar.

 

So would _He_.

 

(And that was a chance and opportunity she couldn’t risk.

 

It was still too risky as of now.)

 

…

 

Kir tenses as she feels her phone vibrate for a second, looking around she lurks behind a closet and checking her phone for the notification, only to feel every single one of her veins freeze at the message content.

Forcing herself to relax, a new goal in mind she navigates her phone tapping hastily on the keyboard. Just as she was about to send a message—she freezes, hearing a step accompanied by a heavy presence behind her.

 

“And just _what_ are you doing here, _Kir?_ ”

 

…

 

Araide Tomoaki had just gotten off his work shift, when two FBI agents that had escorted him for the better part of the week when that criminal apparently disguised herself as him, appeared in front of him.

 

“Is something the matter?” he asks in a low voice as the two agents got close enough—and he sees the pinched expressions on their face. Something must have happened.

 

“A code has been activated… and Jodie called for you.” Tomoaki can’t help but blink at that. He knew from their small interactions that Jodie had a form of trust in him, but to actually call for him when a code has been activated? (Likely, a serious situation too.)

Whether it’s for his doctor's expertise or protection, he can’t help but wonder again, _what happened_. Looking around warily—after that woman disguised and stole his identity, he has been twitchy for a while—finding nothing odd, he nods to disguise an anxious swallow.

 

“Okay.” and he allows himself to be dragged off, and if these men weren’t who they say they are…

 

As he follows, he tucks his hands in his jacket’s pockets. Hand wrapping around the disguised stun gun Jodie had given to him, while the other wrapped around his phone—inputting the code Jodie said would alert her.

 

_Just in case._

…

 

“Oi, look at this…” hearing his trusted partner’s gruff voice, he turns and looks at the phone the other man held over his shoulder.

 

“Hmm… let’s see, let’s see? What do you guys have here?” he pauses, reading the message.  “Oh~? The Green Fairy…? In Japan?”

 

“This sounds bad.” the man says offhandedly, and he agrees.

 

“Yes, it does… indeed. Looks like we have our next destination.” he watches with a tinge of amusement, as even if the man had huffed, he knows the other was just as worried as he is.

 

After all, it has been a while since they last talked.

 

…

 

Rumi smiles as timidly and as meekly as possible, while the children bustled around her. However, one could easily sense the unease around the class. Especially with two iconic and popular second graders missing.

(After a while of teaching as an assistant teacher, the principal had given her the class 2-B. Same faces as 1-B.)

 

She watches as the famed Detective Boys glanced at the empty seats—and she has seen them contacting each other and attempting to contact the two absentees. Sending them worried texts, and she had the pleasure of overhearing their theories during lunch. And though they showed some thinly veiled annoyance at the theory of the other two members being involved in another case they were left out of.

However, of course, they already know their friends enough, especially one Edogawa Conan’s penchant for attracting trouble like a moth to a flame.

 

When the bell rang for dismissal, she dismisses the class—and as expected, she didn’t even have to approach them. They approached her, voicing their concern.

 

“I haven’t heard anything from their guardians… maybe ask them…?” she offers timidly, and they’re discussing by themselves again.

 

While they’re not looking her phone lights up in the desk divider—a message, she angles her head enough to read the content and allows a quirk of a smirk to form on her face, before wiping that back into her standard smile.

 

After all, the children were asking for _her_ advice.

-

(Elsewhere, Wakita thumbs through his phone, just then a message comes in, tapping on it.

His eyes skim across the page, and slowly but certainly he _smirks_.)

 

…

 

“Mom!” Masumi slams the door shut of their hotel, as she rushes in.

 

“Great timing Masumi…” her mother says before she could say anything. “Pack up.”

 

 _No_ , something happened! She just knows it! She needed to contact—

 

“No, mom, hold on a sec—” a stern glare stops her right in her tracks.

 

“ _No_ , Masumi… _pack up_.” then her mother shows her the screen of her phone, and her eyes immediately latches on to that dreadful color—even without reading, she immediately knew the contents.

“Code Lost Boys has been activated. _Pack up,_ Masumi… we _need to move_ , _now._ ”

 

She could only nod, even though she felt like she was suffocating. Moving almost on autopilot as she does pack her thing, changing her clothes.

 

(And it was just like that time when she had a bad feeling and they received the updated from the FBI that the Organization had killed her brother.

 

But this time, she’s reminded of the lurking shadows, the strange people closing in the Mouri family—the two empty seats in class, and the constantly empty seat on the class before.

 

Only two words echoed in her head.)

 

_Not again…_

 

…

 

“Tsk, everyone just wants to ruin my fun!” his thoughts cut off when Absinthe suddenly yells loudly next to him, as he tucks his phone back in his pocket. The man looks at him with a slightly deranged smile—

— _He’d rather_ not _see that on a face too much like his own, like his father, like—_

“You got lucky.” Absinthe suddenly says, with a whine and once more the man moves too _fast_ —and suddenly he’s holding a syringe gun, barrel pressed against his skin. And he only has the time to twitch but felt the ever-familiar sting of a needle pricking his skin.

As quick as he moved, he’s pulling away, throwing the device in the nearby bin, and leaves the room.

 

He didn’t take the dread with him though, it stayed persistently, growing. Also…

 

_Lucky…?_

 

Not even a minute later, a sharp sting courses through his veins, making his arm twitch. Spots filling his vision as his arm is enveloped in pain.

 

 _What in the hell did he—_ the world spins, and he nearly lurches but manages to stop, breathing deeply, and calming himself. When the next wave of pain courses through, he tugs at the restraints he blinks when his right hand actually comes free.

The world may be blurry around the edges, but _he has a chance_.

 

(In the back of his mind, he can’t help but _worry_.

 

Absinthe had moved quickly than what was considered normal, and some heavy feeling made itself known—

— _was it_ really _possible that he…?_

If so, _why?_ )

 

…

 

“… as of now, we know nothing about Rum aside from—” James is cut off when a knock echoes in the room. Kuroda nods, and Kazami moves to open it. They all watched as the forensic officers drag in the evidence gathered from the scene earlier, including the NOC’s murder.

The officers retreating as soon as they leave the zipped up bags they held on the table in front of the Superintendent, as the last officer puts down an all too familiar device—

 

Sonoko then suddenly perks up with a gasp and a wavering voice. She points at one of the items he held—making the officer stop.

“Isn’t that…” they all looked and a new wave of dread washed over them.

 

In the confused officer’s hand was a clear bag, held an all too familiar phone—battery removed, and a Detective Boys badge.

 

They had expected the phone to be broken (especially with how Haibara had thrown a fit on how she was unable to track it down), instead—

 

_It was dreadfully intact._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **(I have actually read some theories of Rumi not being a member of the Organization…?** And that actually makes sense? (And I prefer it because her proximity to the children and two not-children unsettles and unnerves me—as much as I love the horror, and gore, there’s just a _line_ , okay? _Okay, in fact, that line’s actually more of a blur._ )  
> But well, this fic was generated before I read that… and well, her current role is perfect for her… for how much she unsettles me… _**f e e l**_ it. OwO
> 
> Goddamint, so many characters… but it must be done.
> 
> (I am not happy with the word count… I know, it’s short… (I might have gotten too used to the DCMK Revision’s sporadic word count.) but this chapter is stubborn, telling me that no, this is it… apparently. But I guess, there's a lot happening already.)
> 
> Also, who remembers when I updated weekly? Well, today is Monday, technically the _"next week"_ of last week. So...
> 
> **Until the next chapter  
> **   
>  **Adieu.  
>  **—DescriptivePessimism-DAA)****


	15. XIV: Cage

> **|** **檻** **|**

 

His vision spun, bobbing in and out of coherence—and he ignores the ache in his now haphazardly wrapped leg, groaning lowly in pain as he leaned against the wall of the oddly empty and _bright_ hall. For an Organization known for their taste of black, the walls were ironically a blinding white. Toeing and limping around the cold tiled floors, he scans the surroundings, keeping an eye out for anyone—even with his spot-filled vision.

He only went a few more steps, before the world blurred and _swam_ right before his eyes once again. Making him lean heavily against the wall, almost melting into it. Shaking his head lightly once more, he squints up at the hall trying to make out what’s ahead, legs sluggishly following his lead to trudge slowly. A hand pressed against the hall wall in an attempt to keep himself as upright as possible.

 

He isn’t certain how long he stood and walked around, an ache echoing from his leg, crawling up like a scampering spider trying to ensnare and swallow his leg whole. It didn’t help that with it, his arm also felt like it was burning up, hotter than the rest of his body, which had also felt like it was slowly heating up— _what had that madman given him?!_

Prying his eyes open— _when had he shut them?_ —he scans the hall once more, trying to mentally calculate how far he’d gotten, when he seemed like he couldn’t make proper measurements, he drags forward.

If only he could access a computer or something—they should have maps and blueprints of the place, right? Even temporarily hide in some vent somewhere. Give himself enough time to recover, then, of course, _leg_ it, _somehow._

 

Ran would have likely reported him missing the night he didn’t return from the Kid heist— _would that make them think that Kaitou Kid abducted him_?

 

(Kaito would never do that, _he knows that_ , but they—)

 

Unlikely, he decides quickly, it was too far from Kai— _Kid_ ’s MO, even Inspector Nakamori knew that, so he was more than likely declared missing. And since he had seen neither his badge nor his phone on that tray, they were more than likely disposed of…

 

 _Haibara was going to kill him_ —

 

(That wasn’t important, and he’s aware of such… however, it kept his mind off of _certain things_.)

 

—if— _when_ he gets back. And if he could retrieve some data that could contribute to the Organization’s downfall, he wouldn’t mind either. But, of course, he needed to—

 

Suddenly the hall swayed, and not because of his killer of a headache—which almost made him lurch at the nausea that hammered him anew as his free hand that he was leaning his weight on met empty space after the wall shifted and suddenly slid sideways.

The wind momentarily knocked out of him, feeling like he was floating but rammed on the ground by a truck at the same time, his side stung from the contact that he wasn’t able to cushion the fall of— _where had this door come from?!_

_—Okay, stupid question… how had he let his guard down that bad?_

 

Glaring blearily at the door now on his other side—he decides to observe this room at least.

And he notes how compared to the blinding hallway, this one was dimly lit, _dimmer_ than the room he was in earlier. And he scrutinizes every desk, drawer, and shelves in the room; knowing that he would get a better view if he’s not on the floor he gets up as best as he could without support, trying to keep his weight away from his injured leg.

Squinting at the equipment in the room. And he realizes that the almost clear plastic drawers on top of the off-white desk were acrylic box containers that held numerous pills after pills of different color combinations and types, and every container had a combination of letters and numbers. Looking around the room once again, he sees that on the shelves were numerous lab equipment and glass cabinets held what were undeniably chemicals, likely used in this lab.

And the tinted glass in front of him, behind the desk and computers, was likely the room they tested the experiments on, or the location where they made all these pills—

— _then that means it’s possible that the APTX4869 is here_.

 

He knew that Ran had let Shin’ichi go, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to be Shin’ichi again. And Haibara had said once that if she had the original sample of the Apoptoxin, it would raise the chances of the antidote’s creation.

If he _could_ just find it…

 

He’s tempted to growl at the numerous pills when he sees there were more than five sets of containers containing identical red and white pills, the labels were different, however, none of them said _APTX_ —

— _What if it was ciphered?_

 

With that in mind, he scans each of the labels and notes that none of them were chemical compounds, nor were they medicinal abbreviations he’d recognize—thus likely they were ciphered, he shakes his head gently when his vision blurs since blinking seemed to make it worse—

— _was it just him or was it getting harder to breathe?_

 

And even the dim lighting was painful for his eyes, then the world was spinning again that he loses balance and almost tipped to the floor. He feels himself drop abruptly, only managing to blindly lean on the desk to keep him from crumpling to the floor…

… _his head hurts_.

 

It didn’t help that it felt like he was burning up, though not boiling like it usually is when he changes to either form, it still unbearably uncomfortable. Moaning lowly and pitifully, he groans when he feels his throat and lungs burn in response. Even his already shut eyes _stung_ , ears hearing the infuriating, persistent high pitched ringing—and he leans his head on the table when the pain worsened and spread.

 

Strength slowly draining from his body, he feels the world sway and spin…

 

… _he’s falling._

 

…

 

When he regained consciousness his eyes still feeling like they were burning, throat parched and his head did ache slightly, the side of his body that likely made contact with the floor is sore but other than that he felt fine. He finds that he’s still inside that room he stumbled into earlier, glancing at his wristwatch told him that either he was walking for almost an hour, or asleep for half an hour—and either no one noticed him missing or haven’t found him _yet_ …

Speaking of missing, he should be getting back—Ran must be crying her eyes out (What about Kai—). And that reminds him of what he actually wanted to do and what he was doing earlier. Carefully, he pushes himself up trying to remain silent and keep himself from making his state worse than it already was. When he manages to stand up, he immediately lunges for the table scanning once more at the code—then at the computer right next to him. While risky he needed to check the building’s layout anyways.

 

So he turns on the computer, only to see it with a codename-password. He couldn’t use Sherry, nor Vermouth, then he recalls how _Absinthe_ had used some clear liquid on him that made him feel sleepy, nauseated and slight pains all over his body, how it felt like burning.

Taking a hazard guess, he tries typing in Absinthe.

 

 _And it goes through_.

 

And he tenses, feeling like it was too good to be true, and glancing around the room and at the sliding door that he notes actually had a one-way see-through film—and through it, a portion of the hall. He doesn’t attempt to get close, in case it would open by itself and result in his discovery, so he hurried accesses through the files knowing that he would be on time limit, glad that the headache that made his vision wonky had gone away.

(He would have thought it was just a sedative, but the other effects told him otherwise— _speaking of which_ , he needed to get checked over by Haibara.)

With more coherence he searches for the files of the building’s layout, and with a small cheer he finds it and hurriedly memorizes each and every single one of the routes, he could deduce where he is after checking which room he happened on— _he wasn’t exactly paying attention earlier._ Then, where he needed to go—as well as constructing contingency plans and memorizing the ventilation layout with it, though that process would be very slow—

 

 _A notification_ , on the lower right corner—and with it, he sees the date. _That’s weird,_ he thinks, _if that was to be believed in_ … then he was shot _yesterday_. _But that was blasphemous, either the date was just outdated or Absinthe was messing with him…_ which is a more terrifying though.

Even so, he presses a palm against his chest and feels only the cotton fiber fabric of the patient hospital gown, what’s undoubtedly a bandaged and a small lump for the cotton around the stitches. But there was something still weird, _something off_ about— _not now_.

He chastises himself and he looks at the notification, so he maneuvers the cursor to that and clicks on it—

 

 _“Re: Prototype Detective Update”_ immediately he mentally scourges as to why that sounded familiar— _right_ , that was the Apoptoxin’s other name.

 

And without further ado, he reads through the mail— _and he realizes they were still furthering the research on the drug even without Haibara_ —and he really should have seen _that_ coming.

She had said he survived _on chance_ , that it was pure luck that he lived through it as he did, who’s to say someone else wo— _but didn’t Absinthe say that was impossible?_

 _That his survival was chance_ — _No!_

 

The man must have done that on purpose to make him doubt Haibara that man shot him, why should he trust him!?

Though considering the fact Haibara had also— _no_ , that was _different_ , _that was a prank_ … _!_

 

Furiously, shaking the doubts out of his head, he reads on.

 

…

 

Absinthe hummed, smirking when he sees his nephew regain consciousness—and he wonders when his nephew would notice that he was actually locked inside the room or the fact that he was standing on _both_ legs, and even leaning his weight on his right leg, not to mention the fact that the bandages wrapped around his torso weren’t even necessary, that all there was left of his gunshot wound was nothing but a _scar_.

 

A message then arrives on his phone and he hums once again, before playing with the pattern lock twice, then unlocking it to read the message.

 

**_“Having fun?”_ **

 

He smirks, glancing at the screen and then at the tied-up female NOC behind him—who are currently looking at the footage of his nephew in horror, clearly recognizing the boy as Edogawa Conan, as she had been since he caught her. (The footage had no audio, sadly—well, unless his nephew yells.)

Then he thumbs a reply.

 

**_“Quite. Waiting to see if he’d manage to get out of the maze I made for him.”_ **

 

The response doesn’t even take half a minute.

**_“It’s still beyond me how you manage to convince Him to fund that floor.”_ **

 

He doesn’t reply, knowing well enough that _she_ would receive the silent smirk he’s sending her way.

 

Two minutes later, he receives another text from her.

 

**_“Stop rubbing it in my face.”_ **

 

This time his smirk widens, and sets his phone, face down on the table—then he’s studying the surveillance cameras, before switching one of the screens to the webcam on the computer, and the first thing that greets him is his nephew’s face, full of growing dread and horror.

 

He couldn’t wait when his cousin reaches the next room, _there,_ they could _play._

_And this time, both parties will be actively participating—_ which reminds him, he then grabs the clipboard next to him and ticks off one of the boxes with a plus sign, next to it the text C11H18N2O3, right next to it, and a glance at the clock—

 

_It’s been an hour, time for another fingernail to go~_

 

…  


_This can’t be… this was not possible—_ shouldn’t _be possible._

He denies vehemently, then he glances once more at the texts, and reads through it—and he almost slaps himself when he notes that there were irregular capitalizations throughout the document. But before _that,_ he reads through the files once more.

 

Steadily growing baffled and skeptical at every word that sinks inside his mind.

 

Neither anything he read after even contradicted what was said and in fact just went on _and on_ how it was actually possible for such a thing to happen that it sounded like whoever just wrote this piece of _fabricated gibberish_ that apparently stood for a science research project report and was even approved by—

 

He froze, staring blankly at the multiple _codenamed names that were signed on it_.

 

But what stood out the most was the fact that _Absinthe’s_ codename appeared _right above Sherry’s_ elegant script.

 

….

 

Absinthe relishes the fact that the NOC— _he forgot her name,_ again—screamed and howled in pain as he decides to just plunge a knife through her thigh, after all,  _it was unfair if only his nephew had to suffer such a thing_.

Sadly, though her song had to be muffled by a makeshift balled cloth gag almost shoved down her throat— _and honestly, she could choke over it and he would still find it fun_ —with a strip of duct tape over it.

It was, of course, _necessary_ —for his nephew would have been clued into their presence since earlier when he started removing a fingernail for every hour that slipped by with his adorable nephew still in the maze.

 

Looking back at the footage now, makes him wish that the drug had lasted longer—but alas, the Apoptoxin likely didn’t like it hindering its process, and _that was fine_ —just…

… it had been fun watching his nephew wobble and stumble all over the place.

 

_It was time for the next stage._

 

…

 

It was only when he studied each and every pill, finally deciphering the codes, and they weren’t coded by their names, but rather the ones who created them—and he’s certainly the one Gin gave him was Sherry’s work, so he took two of them his eyes slipped to the ones before and _past_ the row of Haibara’s supposed version of the pill, the ones _Absinthe_ made—and he was tempted to swipe a pill or two and have Haibara check _that_ over—— _that_ he _noticed_.

A chill runs down his spine.

 

 _Everything seemed so_ … _fabricated_.

 

Convenient—it was too good to be true.

 

And he whirls around to step back to the computer and studying the building layout once more—and if it was to be believed in, he should be—

 

 _Running_ , someone was running down the halls—more like a group of…

 

_“He’s accessing the computer in section B’s 38th lab!”_

 

 _Talk about the devil and he—or in this case,_ they _—shall come._

 

 _Shit…!_ Scanning around the room, he hurriedly shuts the computer down and rushes to the nearest vent and pulling the cover off, for once thankful for his small body as he crawls inside and pulling the cover back on—and holds his breath when the men inevitably barges in the room, scooting as silently as possible into the vent’s shadows and around the corner.

The men cursed and yelled—but of course, _one_ gets the idea to look _in the vent_ , and as much as he was in the shadows and a corner turn, he was still within arms’ reach and he was already pressed against the cool vibrating metal wall, a cycling fan a few meters on top of him—all there’s left was the path right in front of him, equally dark and daunting but from the layout he knew it lead to the hall just outside of the room.

And should he mention just how counterproductive that was if there were still members hanging outside— _but while that was certainly important_.

There was also the fact that they had spotted him—and seeing as no one opened the other end of that vent yet—well, looks like he’ll have to _leg_ it.

 

Ducking and sprinting out of the grasping arm’s range, he scrambles immediately to the latch and uses his whole weight to tumble outside.

 

_“There he is!”_

 

 _No shit_. He hisses, but pushes himself up and _runs the other way_ —and only then did the headache from his head earlier made itself known, and he wished he had his soccer ball dispensing belt right at this situation with more than eight men after his tail, managing to outrun them on sheer principle that as a _kid_ he can _run faster_ and having the head start helped.

Mentally bringing up the layout of the floor plan, deducing where he is and where he needed to go, he immediately memorized each and every direction to his destination— _skidding to the side just in time_ to slip from a way too-close grab.

 

 _More footsteps and yelling_ , cursing once again he frantically looks around him—sees another latch of a vent, he immediately kicks it open and hurriedly crawls inside just barely missing the hand grappling for his right leg—and that would have been painful—

 

Another hand blindly attempts to get too close to him once more cutting off his thought process like a knife to butter, he crawls in further, trying to deduce which vent it— _of course,_ it was another one of those corner vents that led _up_.

Chewing on his lower lip in apparent frustration he looks up, expecting a bladed fan spinning quickly, only to find _none_. Glancing at the still open latch and the voices that echoed in, he takes a deep breath and _heaves_ himself _up_.

 

…

 

Absinthe frowned— _those stupid, moronic, insolent, foolish idiots! Dolts! Screws for brains that didn’t function as they should!_

 

He nearly growls when his dear nephew slips out of view—and he knew he should’ve asked for the vents’ crawlspace to be larger, but it rose complications with the adult NOCs trying to slip through that, and so they made it smaller— _but of course, his tiny nephews current body_ would allow him to slip through seamlessly.

With the right turns, his nephew could end up _outside of the facility_ —and _he can’t have that_ , not when they just got him _back_.

 

With a snarl, he pulls his phone, thumbing a group message to the men for their next formation.

 

 _No way in hell was he letting his dear nephew go_.

 

Turning to the pale-faced NOC behind him, he grins at her.

 

“My nephew was so adorable just now, don’t you agree? He apparently doesn’t want to join us _yet_ , so I’m going to have to entertain you until his participation~” she glares at him, eyes giving him the fire worth of a thousand suns despite her weakened state.

 

Of course, he does not expect a response, _not_ that she could say anything with her mouth gagged. But he smiles as if she responded anyway, and he ignored how she was steadily growing pale every drop of blood from the pool it made on the chair down to the tiled floor. Even how her eyes fluttered desperate to pry them open but too heavy to protest as her breathing labored, deepened and _slowed_. Chest shuddering almost sporadically, like she wanted to breathe in big gulps of air to somehow keep herself awake, _alive and survive_ —

 

 _At least_ , long enough for _that boy_ to escape.

 

With him, he could bring the police in tow.

 

Her eyes slid shut, completely missing the manic grin that spread across Absinthe’s face, eyes dilating and gleaming eerily.

 

“Oh~ I know where he’s headed now, as expected of my dear nephew, he would know where he’s supposed to be, wouldn’t you agree~?” turning back to his only companion, he notes how she has passed out and clicks his tongue, slightly miffed. “Oh well, I’ll just call in the medic, I wanted to introduce you both. But more importantly, I must congratulate him~” after pressing a blue button on the wall, he whistles his most favorite tune as he went out of the double doors.

 

“After all, he is right where I want him to be~”

 

…

 

Conan gasps as his arms lost support on his torso and the world spun— _for a ventilation system_ , _there wasn’t enough air in here._ He shakes his head, determined to at least get out for a while, even if it’s _not_ out of the facility, but hopefully an unoccupied room where he could hideout for a bit _and_ he could resume his escape plan— _and maybe_ , he could also get some weapons or something that would help him fight back in case they get too close for comfort.

There was no telling what would be in kicking range, and _they_ could easily snipe him down—and he wasn’t even going to reason with that by trying to convince himself that they needed him alive. _Absinthe,_ his so-called _uncle_ had already shot him once and treated him to keep him alive. Who’s to say that _madman_ wouldn’t do it again?

 

Unexpectedly, something sent a wave of shivers down his spine—his hairs rising as goosebumps formed around his skin. Shuddering he looks around the dark crawlspace—and he knew no one else could come after him…

 _… unless the Organization used children for their plans_ —and wasn’t _that_ a terrifying thought?

 

He eventually decides that the crawlspace was _too cold_ , and the adrenaline that had slightly abated was making him jittery. Once more, he glanced into the latch, trying to identify the room in front of him and— _there were humans in tanks_ …

 _There were human **children** in the tanks_.

 

From the coded numbers on them, they were likely artificially generated (and he wouldn’t put it past them) or kidnapped children the Organization decided to experiment on. He wasn’t looking forward to the time they would wake up and _serve_ —because they wouldn’t be _working_ , they wouldn’t be _paid_ , they will be raised as mindless _tools_ , cold-blooded killers who would accept any order, no questions asked.

He shudders, but makes a note on it, as long as he could get the FBI, the PSB and the law enforcement’s attention to this, they were likely more than happy to rehabilitate them.

So, he decides to store that observation away _for now_ , and further study the room for _conscious occupants_.

 

When silence raged for a few seconds he was about to gently open the latch when he hears the door open and immediately freezes.

 

 _Two of them_ … and they were talking about something—and he really would have understood if it weren’t for the fact that they were bringing in terms that sounded vaguely _science-related_ but not _, and it didn’t help that his German was rusty_.

Neither scientist showed signs of leaving soon, so he scoots further and away from that room, practically blindly venturing through the maze in the dark that if it weren’t for the internal map he’d memorize, he would have more than likely gone in circles.

 

The further he went, the colder the room became—and a sense of dread made itself apparent, but he doesn’t _stop_ , he _can’t_ —he needed to _get out_ of the facility and _contact Akai_ somehow—he can’t go back. Not when Absinthe already knew—the man would know his likely destination if he does explicitly return. It would just put everyone in danger, _hell_ , this stunt alone was already likely putting them in _more_ danger than they already are.

So, _no_ , he _can’t_ go back… _not yet at least_.

 

The sense of unease grew, and in his attempt to locate the source of the sensation, _something pinged_ in his head that _wasn’t this around that area where the vent’s layout was weirdly constru_ —his hand slipped, and like a domino effect; his body soon tumbles after.

 

 _Shit_ …! His back hits the metal latch—a larger space than the others, _and his luck sucks_ , he decides when the latch opens _and deposits him in this freezing room_. Hissing, he looks around the dimly lit room, while trying to breathe warmth back to his hands—which he notes are a pale shade, and almost blue around the tips.

This place was like a _freezer_ with how cold it was, and he should likely make his way back to the vent and away _from this room_.

 

He takes in a deep breath, about to stand up as he calculated how many steps it should take to get back to the vent— _speaking of, why was this one larger?_ It also didn’t help the fact that from his tumble down that sloped portion—almost like a deposit chute—it would allow an adult to slip in, _though_ not crawl the crawlspace, but have enough space to reach over to try and grab him.

And if he was _right, and he usually is_ , at his current state and stature he wouldn’t be able to reach the ledge. Likely he’d be able to grasp it a bit, but _not enough to get a_ grip and pull himself up. If he had Mistuhiko’s height, he would have no problem with it.

 

So, he looks around the room from what he can currently see with the lighting. The dread _grows_ , he notes the heavily tinted glass—a one-way window then, a bed in the center of the room, _not just any bed_ , a surgical and operation bed _…_ that alone gave him another wave of dread _even before he takes note of the leather binds_.

Unoccupied as it was… it was _unsettling_ , not just for the implications it gave, and it wasn’t just the bed, the room was giving him the same impression, the feeling of being watched when someone inevitably conducts their more than likely unethical malpractice operations, but also the fact that it was—

 

 _Clapping_ … he tenses, nearly jumping when loud, _slow, mocking claps_ echoed loudly in the room. A pair of familiar sinister eyes boring to the back of his skull, and he spins around. Eyes meeting with a similar shade of blue.

 

A mocking, _taunting_ , _mad look_ on the man’s face that looked too much alike— _enough of that!_

 

He doesn’t say anything, and despite the wide-open double doors behind Absinthe, he knew he wouldn’t make it very far—

 

“Congratulations~” the man croons, and he can’t help but tense, taking a step back. The man _leers_ glancing at his right leg that made him twitch and _something itched in the back of his head—_ “And it looks like your leg’s completely healed~”

 

 _What…?_ He knew for a _fact_ that Absinthe had stabbed him _just earlier_ , and it _broke_ his _bone_. _Fully healed…?!_

And he was torn by wanting to prove the man _wrong_ —because that wasn’t _right_ , it _wasn’t_ logical, it _wasn’t_ possible!—by tearing the cloth wrapped around his leg, yet at the same time… he didn’t want to…

 

 _Because he couldn’t feel a hint of pain from his leg, at all._ And he _couldn’t properly breathe again_ , the already freezing room felt like its temperature _dropped_ even further.

 

Absinthe _smirks._ “So… do you like it~?”

 

 _Like it…? Like what?_ The man looks around the room as if he was admiring a masterpiece— _it clicks_.

 

The realization nearly sent him hurling from nausea and bile that lurched in his throat.

 

 _This room was made for him as Edogawa Conan_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **(Poor Cone is suffering… ÖꞷÖ**
> 
> And _yes_ , finally a seemingly normal Absinthe POV… _kinda._
> 
> _And_ I feel like I’m losing my touch? Not just because of my packed schedule for these past few days, but also like due to the fact I’ve been binging on pure movies and soundtracks, like— _Disney_ , and shit… and it’s like purifying me or something—not to mention the fact that I’m actually listening to a _lullaby instrumental montage of Disney soundtracks while typing this… so…_ XDD
> 
>  
> 
> (And I _kid_ you not, lullabies _never_ worked for me as a kid? But it’s strangely effective now, so like the whole time I’m typing this chappie, I’m just yawning and blinking groggily at it.)
> 
> _Also_ , I probably shouldn’t have written **Quid Pro Quo** before this, because I swear I died… still am.
> 
>  
> 
> **Until the next chapter**
> 
> **Adieu.**
> 
> **—DescriptivePessimism-DAA)**


	16. XV: Waiting

 

> **|** **まっている** **|**

 

**_“He’s flat-lining! Someone get the defibrillator! Stat!”_ **

****

**“He’s not respondi—”**

 

_“He’s fine, give him a moment.”_

 

…

 

Wataru hisses, crouching low on the convenient metal drawer mentally cursing how he’d slipped up when he accidentally made his presence known to the on-standby members, right as everything was going so well.

Next to him, Miwako— _no_ , it’s Satou for now, pats his shoulder with a silent gesture of reassurance. Her other hand holding her gun in a firm grip, though none of them moved yet.

 _Not_ with how the operatives were constantly on open-fire—

 

_Wait, what was the witness—_

 

Wataru stares as the young teen, after a nod from his mother and Akai, crouched lower three familiar red balls in-between his fingers, then tossing that to the direction of the operatives. The hall exploding in an ever-familiar iconic _pink smoke_ —

He’s certain of it, the witness was no ordinary teenager, no—that was _Kaitou Kid_.

 

…

 

_“See? He’s awake… better than last time, now it’s time for—”_

 

…

 

Kaito grunts feeling the bullet dig into his vest—and if it weren’t for it, he’d be bleeding out through his shoulder— _shouldn’t he deserve that though?_

He had gotten the little detective shot, shouldn’t it be natural that he would receive some form of karma as well? Sensing an operative get way too close behind him, he twists just in time for the operative’s foolish lunge that sent him straight to his range and easily knocking him out.

Quickly twisting his arms and zip-tying his wrists, Kaito moves forward through the base, not minding how Hakuba covered for him as they both navigated deeper.

 

Another operative tries to shoot him from down the hall, but is instead kicked down by Akai and shot with a sedative, then cuffed by Jodie behind him.

 

On the other side, he sees Hattori whack someone over the head with a shinai, while Mouri Ran just used one of her impressive flying kick to take down two operatives at once, Kazuha flipping people over her shoulder throwing them to their accomplice, and harshly kicking their faces.

 

Hakuba then leans over, arm aiming past his head and shoulder, finger immediately squeezing the trigger and shooting another sedative.

 

…

 

Mary glares at the police detective in front of her, before glancing at the so-called famous Mouri Kogorou behind the woman—who stopped her from shooting both her and her daughter.

“Someone you know, Mouri?” the inspector with a limp and a blinded eye asks.

 

“The older one is my daughter’s classmate, Yamato-keibu.”

 

“Is that so? Then, how do we know if they’re not part of the Organization?” in front of her, Masumi tenses minutely, before the girl speaks.

 

“Since Mouri-tantei is involved. Conan-kun and Ran-kun are here?” Mary sighs, she really needed Masumi to focus—

 

“You don’t know…?” Kogorou voices instead, and there’s a tinge of _something_ in his tone that makes Mary tense with her daughter. Behind him, Yamato sighs before he growls.

 

“Or they could be pretending, they are sneaking around here, who’s to say they aren’t distractions for the snipers to have a party with us?” Mary tries to grab her daughter back, but Masumi seems to be determined not to be deterred.

 

“My brother was an FBI agent and the greatest sniper in history, and they _killed him_. For that I won’t forgive them—I’m certain Conan-kun is being reckless out there, even if you try to detain him somewhere, he’ll try to escape so—”

 

“ _They_ —or rather _Absinthe_ shot the brat and took him with him.” Masumi freezes.

 

“So, he’s Code Lost Boys… I knew that boy was going to be trouble one day.” Masumi whirls to her, a complaint obviously on the tip of her tongue.

 

“M—”

 

“Masumi. I already told you about Absinthe, the fact that he took the boy means _They_ ’re almost finished with the research. And we _can’t_ let _Them_ succeed _that_ is our top priority.”

Turning to look past her daughter and on the detectives, she glares.

 

“Sera Mary, MI6. Code Lost Boys has been activated and I have to say that we have our own priority—a word of advice, don’t stay too long in place here, _They’ll_ find you. Masumi, come.”

 

“I’ll look for him, if we do find him I’ll tell Ran-kun, Mouri-san.”— _Of course, she’d say that._ Mary sighs, before glancing at her daughter who smiles if strained.

 

…

 

**_“Sir, at this rate he’ll have—”_ **

_“Scars are of no problem, we only need to see if he actually regenerates, and see if his body can still function properly… even with the scars.”_

**“However at this rate he could—”**

_“This might sound rude to you sweetheart, but I’m sorry—do_ you _know who I am?”_ stuttering, then he feels something cool and sharp press against the joint of his finger.

 

**“I apologize…”**

 

 _Laughing_ …

 

_Sharp…_

_Burns…_

_White…_

 

_—It hurts._

 

…

 

Kaito immediately dives out of the way of the continuous rain of bullets, sighing in relief when Hakuba managed to evade by lunging in the opposite direction. Just as he was about to hurl a modified timed-boomerang to the man’s head, when the operative goes down with a grunt and a burst of blood—a glance up and he nods, swallowing the lump in his throat— _it was to be expected_. They couldn’t knock every member out.

The bullets stopped, then he and Hakuba immediately sprint towards the door.

 

…

 

Ran growls, backhanding the man in front of her, then roundhouse kicking him to another operative that was about to shoot before racing after them, using a small drawer as a stepping stool to lift herself up and rocketing down to bash their heads together on the ground. Twisting just enough to elbow one of the back of their necks, while letting the other get knocked out by the sheer force of his head slamming on the ground.

 

“Neechan! Down!” hearing Hattori, she immediately ducks down feeling Hattori’s shinai flung past her head to hit the forehead of the operative while Kazuha rushes past her to restrain the stunned operative.

A door opens to the side, and Ran immediately flings herself up, using her momentum to lift and step on the walls, then using the door as a handhold, she kicks one of the startled operatives, hissing when a bullet grazes her cheek—Hattori immediately follows her lead to whack the operative that shot at them, over the head.

 

…

 

Akai glares down at the operatives, and he knew there were multiple officers and agents all over the place—but the fact that he had yet to encounter any note-worthy alcohol coded members, meant only one thing. This base was already abandoned by the Organization, especially with how unprepared most of the operatives are. The lack of lab-coated members despite the vacant laboratory and operating rooms, the apparent limited resources to defend themselves. The incoordination, the panic, the obvious lack of members. It only meant one thing…

 

_Cannon fodders._

 

This base was a bust.

 

“Shuu?” behind him, Jodie asks

 

“He’s not here.”

 

“How do you…” she trails off, before nodding.

 

“Ransack the place, we need more information on the other bases.”

 

“Roger.”

 

…

 

 _“Pull back, let the officers handle this.”_ Kaito growls, nearly tempted to just remove his transmitter and throw that across the floor. Thankfully, Hattori’s response said enough for him.

 

**_“Why? We ca’ handl’ ‘rselves, Akai-han!”_ **

 

_“The boy isn’t here… I’d rather not have you injured, let us handle this. Go back to the rendezvous.”_

 

“But—!” behind him, Hakuba manages to catch him off-guard by putting an arm on his shoulder.

 

“Kuroba, we’re just going to end up over-exerting ourselves.”

 

_“Indeed, in fact, I’d rather not have you guys in this operation at all—”_

**_“So, yer sayin we shoul’ jus’ abando’ Conan-kun?!”_** that was Toyama Kazuha if he recalled correctly. **_“As if we ca’ seat ther’ an’ do nothin’!”_**

 

“Toyama-san, I’m certain that’s not what—”

 

_“Never. I said it, I owe the boy my life and that will never change. We’ll find him, but all of you pull back, we need you to save up on your supplies. Ran-san, any news from your father?”_

Mouri Kogorou and a few others were on a different base.

 

Kaito sighs, but Hakuba only nods before warily leading him outside.

 

_They needed to find Tantei-kun now… who knows that that sick bastar—_

 

Both he and Hakuba tenses when they hear something drops from the end of the hall. Immediately grabbing his modified card gun with modified ammunition, he glances at Hakuba who’s currently gripping his own tranquilizer gun. Warily approaching the source of the thump.

 

Nothing moved, deciding to take the risk, Kaito rushes forward only to see an overly familiar woman—if bloodied and breathing harshly.

 

 _News reporter Mizunashi Rena, Hondou Hidemi of the CIA_. _Kir_.

 

It would be impolite to interrupt Mouri Ran’s report, however—

 

“Kuroba, this is…”

 

“I know…” immediately he presses on the mic. “Akai-san… we found Rena-san and she doesn’t look good.”

 

_“Can you move her?”_

 

“Hold on.” turning to Hakuba who’s already checking the woman over, he nods not even a second later. “Yes.”

 

“Other than a heavy blow to the head, and hypovolemia, she looks okay. We’ll take care not to jostle her too much.”

 

_“Good, bring her back.”_

 

Just as Hakuba was about to carry her on his back, she stirs.

 

“ _He_ … the green fairy was here…” Kaito freezes, staring at the woman. “He took the boy with him.” Hondou groans before coughing blood.

 

“Ma’am, please save your breath.” Hakuba then immediately turns to him, not that he needed him to tell him to know. “She has internal bleeding, Kuroba clear the way, I’ll leave defense and offense to you.”

 

 _“Does she know where?”_ Kaito also wanted to know, however, is she really in the state to talk right now?

 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea—” Hondou must have figured out what they were talking about, because she responds, despite her strength and color draining rapidly.

 

_“Absinthe said… find me… if you can. Niisan.”_

_What…?_

 

…

 

Yuusaku glares at the base that was apparently a bust—and he knew it was too much to hope they would get it right at once, and he knew that the other base had the same result, especially since they had gotten not a word from them—behind him. Immediately he rears back, arm already pulling back ready to snap forward with a fist, but freezes when he caught sight of an all too familiar face. And he glares.

 

“ _What_ do you want?” she sighs.

 

“I’m simply here for an offer if you will. And information.”

 

“The most useful information you can give me is the exact location where that bastard is holding my son.” Vermouth once again sighs.

 

“He’s not stable, _unfortunately...”_ Yuusaku growls.

 

“And you’re letting them…?” Vermouth _smiles_.

 

“Oh, don’t be so stingy… you know as well as I do what it means to survive the APTX-4869’s prototype.” Yuusaku was nearly tempted to burrow a hole in her head had he not known how futile of an effort it was and a waste of ammunition.

Before he heaves a sigh, she wouldn’t confront him discreetly if she didn’t want anything in return.

 

“What do you want?” she smirks.

 

“That’s simple. I need you to help me with something.”

 

“Oh? That’s surprising, who knew the ever-famous _Chris_ _Vineyard_ would actually need some help from me.”

 

“Now, now~ Don’t be like that… I may like your wife, however, you know how I actually feel about you and your son…” he sighs, _of course, he knew_ , it was impossible to miss it.

 

“And?” he prompts flatly, knowing she was far from done with the patronization. Of course, she smirks, clearly finding it amusing.

 

“And… I wasn’t asking.”

 

…

 

_“Oh? Are you feeling better now? That’s great, you’re showing great progress, dear nephew. In fact, you’re showing exceptional progress!”_

 

“…”

 

_“Such fierce glare! Don’t worry, you’ll see me after a while again. I just need to see if you can recover from having your brain stem severed.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **(Don’t you just hate it when it ends in a cliffhanger and the next chapter focuses on a different setting relevant to the plot (still) but either happening around the same time or a bit earlier? _Or further_? ^ ^**
> 
>  
> 
> [Yes, a time-skip happened in between chapters~
> 
> (I’m an impatient girl, the first version of this was a continuation of Chapter 13, however,  _I’m impatient_.)
> 
>  
> 
> This was taking way too long with nothing much happening, plus I’m pretty sure you guys can fill in the blanks just fine, right? ;)]
> 
>  
> 
> Or hate it in general cause it still ended in a cliffhanger?
> 
>  
> 
> Also, who figured out what Absinthe gave to Cone back in Chapter 13 which gravely affected Chapter 14? ^^
> 
>  
> 
> Warning, there will be an indefinite timeskip between chapters that will just be referred to vaguely, cause then this will take forever. >< (Lol, it already happened.)
> 
> Also... damnit, Osaka dialect is just hell for my word checker... >< But hey, it's _fun_ ~ ^ ^
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **Until the next chapter**
> 
>  
> 
> **Adieu.**
> 
>  
> 
> **—DescriptivePessimism-DAA)**
> 
>  


	17. XVI: I Wanted to See You

>  
> 
> **|** **会いたかったんだ** **|**

   

 A cherry blossom badge of paper.

 

_“If you want a cherry blossom, you can have this one.”_

_“O-Okay.”_

_“I’ll write your name for you. What’s your name?”_

_“Kudou Shin’ichi, Sakura Class.”_

_“Ku-do-u… Shin-ichi…”_

_“Thanks.”_

_“Here. It’s done!”_

 

…

 

A roller coaster, a pearl necklace, and a pill.

 

Three new friends and one like him.

 

Yoshida Ayumi, Tsubaraya Mitsuhiko, Kojima Genta and Haibara Ai.

 

A pair of glasses on a small face, and a name.

 

…

 

_“Hey, boy. What are you doing at a place like this?”_

**_“What are you doing out here so late, Tantei-kun?”_ **

****

_(“I thought we could use the re-introduction.”)_

A can, and a lighter.

 

A power-shoe and modified soccer ball…

**_“Fireworks!”_ **

…

 

“Oi, Shin, you cheated. _Again_.” Conan— _Shin(‘ichi)_ —laughs at the thief’s indignant pout and baleful but half-hearted glare, eyes twinkling with mirth and slight annoyance.

 

“I did not, you’re just losing your touch, Kai.” he grins up at the teen—who responds with an exaggerated affronted gasp and feigning a swoon.

 

“The _burn_! What _blasphemous lies!”_ he whines and Shin’ichi rolls his eyes at the other teen’s antics, but still awfully amused. “I’ll show you with the next heist!” nodding, he tells the teen as flatly amused as possible.

 

“I’ll be looking forward to it.” Kai whines of how much of a buzz kill he is, despite being a kid.

 

…

 

Shin’ichi balefully glared at the sign, then on the decorated windows of the shop, before he turns said dry stare on his companion, and Conan asks. “An ice cream parlor, really?” and he dreads the moment he’d have to eat the sweet treat, and seeing as it’s a newly opened—though neither he nor Kai went together on the opening, as Sonoko and Ran had planned to go—shop in Haido district, and he hopes that the flavors aren’t too sweet.

But seeing how both Sonoko and Ran sang praises, he inwardly mourns for his taste buds and growing sweet tooth. (Amuro seems to be the only one to get the taste of his liking just right.)

 

“Live a little, would you? You’ve been ordering an awful lot of bland treats and bitter drinks, you need some sugar in you, Tantei-kun.” Kai huffs with a tone of some pretentious lecturer—had his lecture not been so ridiculous, Conan would have believed him.

 

“As a matter of fact—” he ends up swallowing the words with a startled yelp as Kai suddenly grabbed his hand to pull him towards the shop.

 

“Come on! Let’s go!” sighing, he lets himself be pulled by the overenthusiastic teen, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

 

And he allows himself, _once more_ , to be carried away with the teen’s antics.

 

…

 

_『_ _r u busy?_ _』_

 

Shin’ichi looks around the classroom, making sure that no one’s watching, contemplating whether or not he should reply immediately, before deciding that it wouldn’t hurt, and quickly types in his response.

 

_『_ _I’m currently in class, and so should you, what in the world are you doing?_ _』_

And regrets the decision when not even a second later, the reply comes in.

 

_『_ _but im bored!_ _』_

 

 Looking around to make sure no one’s looking, he thumbs in the reply.

 

_『_ _Live a little, won’t you? It’s just a few more hours of class, you can take it :)_ _』_

 

_『_ _adfgdhfjgwer_ _』_

 

Is the rather incoherent reply, and soon after:

 

_『_ _an emoji! :D_ _』_

 

Smirking, _that should be enough to entertain him for now_ , he hides his phone just in time to smile innocently at the suspicious teacher.

-  


“I saw, what you did, Conan-kun…” Mitsuhiko speaks during lunch after they all gathered round on their group, behind him, Kobayashi-sensei huffs in agreement, poking his cheek with the eraser end of her pencil.

 

“You weren’t even trying to—” she doesn’t get to finish, as they all heard his phone vibrating against his table’s divider.

 

“Who is it?” Ayumi asks, but before anyone could speak Haibara answers with an all-too-smug smirk and tone.

 

“No one important, just a dashing Oniichan who likes the moon.” Kobayashi and the kids’ attention turned to her, curiously inquiring what she knows. While Conan tries to glare at her—but seeing his chance, he takes a peek at whatever nonsense Kai sent him.

 

_『_ _Agh! dont ignr me, Tantei-kuuuun!_ _』_

_『_ _im bored!_ _』_

_『_ _Please! Save me from my impending doom!_ _』_

_『_ _So, you_ can _use proper punctuations and grammar._ _』_

_『_ _no not u 2!_ _』_

_『_ _bastrd told me i was using my phone 2 much_ _』_

_『_ _Yes. Do use words normally, like a normal person. And Hakuba-niisan’s right._ _』_

_『_ _Ahhh! Such cruelty! Tantei-kun has sided with the wrong!_ _』_

_『_ _Just what in the hell happened, you could type just fine!_ _』_

_『_ _im bored!_ _』_

_『_ _Kids are getting too curious, I’ll be ignoring you for a while._ _』_

_『_ _WHAT?! NOOOOOOOOO!_ _』_

Conan locks his phone just as the others turn to him with pouts on their faces and smiles.

 

“It’s better for you guys to not know… he’s a bad influence… trust me.”

 

…

 

Shin’ichi is glad Akai let them have the house as they wish after seeing them approach with a quick self-dismissal of how he had some errands to run, and would probably be gone for the remainder of the day—until night come. (Though he noted _more_ was implied if they weren’t finished.)

Attempting to cook on their own had resulted in a disaster that they ultimately decided to order pizza in the end. Soon followed with them playing board or card games—

 

“I saw that!”

 

“Saw what?”

 

“You cheated!”

 

“Prove it!”

 

“Tantei-kun that’s unfair!”

 

“All is fair in love and war. I refuse to lose. If you can prove _how_ I cheated, I’ll forfeit.”

 

“But you’re a detective!”

 

“And?”

 

“… why is this the best moment of my life, right now.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Ye— _hey! Stop that Tantei-kun!_ ”

 

“Then prove it to me how I’m cheating~”

 

Watching movies—

 

“… therefore that woman by now should actually be—”

 

“Tantei-kun, I swear you don’t do this with the other kids—”

 

“Of course not, they’ll start yelling, I’d rather save my eardrums from such excruciation.”

 

“—so why can’t you just watch it normally with me—”

 

“ _This_ _is_ _how_ I _normally_ watch movies.”

 

“—without poking logic-shaped holes in the plot—”

 

“What plot? And it needed to be done, they’re advertising false information.”

 

“—while enjoying the movie—”

 

“Impossible, it’s purely illogical and unreasonable, it shouldn’t even be in this category.”

 

“—without interrupting everything I say! And stop it! I swear you’re worse than the bastard!”

 

“We’re detectives, it’s what we do, Kid.”

 

“But—!”

 

“False information could be deadly.”

 

_“Tantei-kun…!”_

 

_“Besides, if they wanted to let the audience actually enjoy this they should have…”_

_“Aghh!! No! I’m not listening!!! I ca~an’t hear you…!!! Lalalalala…”_

 

…

 

—the memories faded, warping into the dim overhead lights on the ceiling in front of him. Then a silhouette stepped right in front of him, blocking the lights.

 

 _“Ah, that’s good… you’re awake.”_ Absinthe remarks with a too-wide grin, his voice barely coherent with his muted and muffled senses—still groggy from his drug and exhaustion-induced sleep, but that soon faded away to give way to the seeping clarity. “And coherent! That’s great, your healing factor doesn’t need you to die before regenerating! This is great news, now… tell me…” the grin widens full of teeth, and a groan slips past his lips.

His body felt heavy like lead like it always does, and though he couldn’t really move—not with the metal binds, he still tries to scoot away, tugging futilely at his mostly unresponsive limbs.

“Since your resistance to chemicals and poisons have risen considerably. How would you like to test your luck against euthanasia?”

 

As if cued, fingers are pressing against his arms, searching for a pulse and soon replaced by the ever familiar pin-prick sensation of needles piercing through his skin and into his veins.

 

“The setup is complete, sir.” Absinthe nods, caressing his sore cheekbone with his thumb. Reminding Conan of the fact that he had a cut there before, it must have healed while his body burned out the poison—

 

“Initiate.”

 

He hisses, body involuntarily arching and reacting when a rush of burning chemicals entered his veins to course through his body, and one by one, his senses once more dulled, muffling the outside world. A sharp gasp and the burning in his lungs reminds him that his throat had once more refused to _breathe_  as if someone had wrapped a thick blanket around his head and started to slowly strangulate him.

Darkness crept on the edges of his vision, randomly abating and fluctuating.

 

He jolts when the next chemicals came rushing in, and his mind finally echoes what a normal human would be drowning in—

 

_Pain._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **( _As promised~_** and in accordance to a bet I had with my friend... :D
> 
> :)
> 
> :3
> 
> So… _like_ it?
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **Until the next chapter~**
> 
>  
> 
> **Adieu.**
> 
>  
> 
> **—DescriptivePessimism-DAA)**
> 
>  **Edit:** For those that saw chapter "18" (17) that was a cloned upload, I apologize for getting your hopes up.


	18. XVII

**| XVII |**

   

Kaito hisses but stays in place after the little detective's other mature but little yet no less frightening friend glowers and glares at him for the nth time he tried to move away. Her tiny fingers digging deeply into his arm that he'd be surprised if there were no small handprint bruises. 

Then she's back to bandaging the bullet graze on his arm and he lets her, scanning the group, and waiting for the other to join them and hoping that no one had died. 

Tantei-kun wouldn't like it if something happened to his friends, that's for certain—were  _they still friends though?_  

 

Immediately, he shakes his head because  _that wasn't important—not now at least._  

 

This was just the second base their group covered and with how people are coming back way too soon told Kaito nothing but bad news. Radio silence from the transmitters and other groups didn't help either. 

 

He didn't like how most of the others treated Tantei-kun— _Conan—Shin's_ case like it was like any other kidnapping case because  _They_ weren't just anybody.

But the fact that the longer Conan remained unfound, the higher his mortality rate gets, and Kaito refuses to give up even if they went past the supposed mark for when the police would usually declare the case left cold and the kidnapped person as deceased. 

 

He refuses to leave  _the Little Detective in Their grasp._  

 

He blinks pulling himself out of his thoughts when someone nudges him with their shoulder and leaning on him quite obstructively— _it wasn't Hakuba though_ —he knew that without looking, Hakuba would talk first before even attempting to touch him (unless he was too deep in thoughts to get his attention) much less  _lean on him for more than a second._  

From Haibara's expression though, it seems it's someone she knows and not that Akai or Subaru person (she tends to glare or look at him warily), nor Yukiko or the younger Mouri (she obviously regards them with open-invitation). 

The Osakan Detective then. 

 

A look and he's right, so he cocks a brow at the detective, he really wasn't in the mood. When the tanned detective says nothing and scans his face even further, intruding on his personal space far from what he'll say is appropriate and his comfort. 

He's just about to open his mouth and question him when the Osakan speaks. 

 

"I dun' get it." 

 

"Excuse me?" 

 

"Wha's in't fer ya Kid?"  _that was unexpected_. He knew that detectives were notoriously sharp, but not even the adults, except for Akai Shuuichi, his mother and the Kudous had took a look at Kuroba Kaito and connected him with Kaitou Kid. Hakuba connected Kid to him due to the varying and _"evidence"_ he gathered, though Hakuba has really loosened up compared to who he was last year. Conan hadn't officially met Kuroba Kaito, but he was instead willing to let Kaito go at his own pace. 

(Seeing how the boy worked, however, gave him no illusions, Kaito knew that if the little detective wanted, he could have easily found out with concrete evidence to back it. 

 

 _Of course, that was why Hakuba was so worried in the first place_. 

 

But the little detective was also righteous in a sense.) 

 _This,_ however _, was just ridiculous, first Hakuba, now this guy?!_  

 

 _Who was next Kudou Shin'ichi?_ And don't get Kaito wrong, but he's heard about Kudou Shin'ichi, a distant relative of Conan if what he heard was right, the Modern Day Holmes. He wouldn't be surprised if the detective just took one look at him and became certain almost immediately that he's Kid. 

Conan, if he paid enough attention, would know it's him even disguised—and due to the times they spent together, Conan had gotten smoother in picking up his presence and seeing through his disguises almost immediately. 

 

If what he also heard that Kudou was the one teaching the little detective was true, Kudou would likely be even more skilled compared to the little detective (not that he would exchange one for the other. He likes the little detective as he is, messing up his heists in the meanest way possible, adorable glasses, hellish soccer balls, tranquilizer darts and all.) which doesn't help him and only supported his theory. 

 

The fact that the way Hattori Heiji's gaze at him hasn't changed since they met, as detective and witness told him enough that Hattori had likely realized or deduced his double identity either immediately or soon after that. 

 

Back to his question though. 

 

 _Was Hattori seriously implying that_ Kaito _won't do anything unless he's benefiting something from this?! When they've already raided the second base?! Does he really need an ulterior motive to help them and retrieve their mutual friend (aside from also vindictively bringing down the organization)?!_  

 

 _Sure_ , Kaito knows an international thief isn't really trustworthy in some ( _most_ ) accounts. Kaito, however, had more than once established that he  _did not kill._  

Now would he let someone just do it right in front of him if he could help it. Especially if it involved innocent people, his loved ones, friends, the Taskforce and his detectives. 

 

Tantei-kun was no exemption. 

 

 _Tantei-kun, who he hurt all because he wasn't patient enough to let the boy explain himself in a more secluded and safer area._  

 

 _Tantei-kun who was shot through the lung, bleeding and laying on his pool of blood, unmoving. Not responding, even as he screamed at him to just_ move  _or something._

 

Shoving the gnawing, suffocating memories into the dark recess of his mind, _Poker Face,_ he focuses on the detective in front of him.

 

“I mean… I ‘ppreciate yer ‘elp an’ all, bu’ I dun’ get why yer still ‘ere with us. Ya know where de otha’ bases ‘re, no one’s stoppin’ ya ta go ‘head, or sta’ with us.” Kaito fidgets, while the detective rose some good questions, there also obviously points that he missed. Not to mention, he’s mother and Hakuba are both here, both of whom are enough to threaten him in place.

And he wasn’t foolish, he knew he can’t just infiltrate a highly guarded base to perform a rescue on his own. Akai had already told him and warned him about it.

 

“So… wha’s n’it fer ya Kid?”

 

“Wha—”

 

“Look, I dun’ car’ if yer Kid or som’ otha’ shit. As long as ya ‘aven’ killed ‘nyone, yer good in ou’ book. An’ I know it happened on yer heist night. Bu’ wha’s n’it fer ya? Really? An’ dun’ thin’ fer a secon’ tha’ I ‘aven’ figured out yer da secon’ generation.”

He froze, Tantei-kun had figured that out too, though it was only natural that the Osakan detective would figure that out since they met as Kuroba Kaito and Hattori Heiji this time. However, there was also the fact that Tantei-kun was close with the hot-headed (Hakuba’s words, not his) detective that it wouldn’t be too far-fetched—

“Co-nan tol’ me nothin’ of sor’. Not even ‘bout de fac’ tha’ bothuva ya’ve been hangin’ out fer _months_. Besides, he’s no’ like tha’… seein’ as ya’ve his respec’ he wouldn’ tell on ya…” Kaito stares. _Are detectives secretly psychic?!_ Before he could say anything though, the dark-skinned detective hums, then scrutinizes him closer that Kaito couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable. Then before he could even say anything the other teen pulls back with a huff.

“I see…”

 

_But Kaito didn’t say anything though?_

 

Then the Osakan grins.

 

“'lso, Kazuha’s gonna kill me if she finds out I grilled ya fer answers when yer clearly exhausted…” _What?_ Somehow, Kaito didn’t like the direction of their— _a prick of a needle on his skin_ and the world _sways_.

 

Kaito tries to curse, and fight back, but it only ends up with a slur and a heavy feeling like lead weighing on him, before he feels himself sway back and down. Two pairs of hands guiding him on the seat to lay down.

 

“…so do us a favo’ an’ sleep fer a while… we’ll fill ya in, o’ wake ya up fer da meetin’.”

 

_Bastard detectives._

…

 

The agent hisses, and moans in pain, coughing out another bunch of blood that clogged up his throat in attempt to clear his throat and keep himself conscious despite the intense pain resonating in his throat that felt too much like someone just rubbed shards of glass and sandpaper on the inside of his throat with how much it burns.

Glaring around the dark port, he palms his phone doing his best to see through the blurred colors and spots that appeared in his vision, to hurriedly tap in the requested information.

 

He had just managed to hit send when he hears someone step up behind.

 

“This is the end of the line.” He chuckles hearings Gin’s voice, once again confirming that the message was sent he hurls the phone past the man’s face and into the ocean behind—the phone most likely hitting a pole when he hears it shatter before it even dipped in the water with a plop.

Gin growls, and he smirks.

 

A gunshot and a heavy thud echoes in the port followed by the ominous silence.

 

…

 

Kazami groans but stops himself from physically reacting as the collaborator glares at him when he twitched once again, focusing on stitching the deep cut on his side—soon enough she wraps his wounds, then hands him a glass of water and two pills, likely a painkiller and sleeping pill.

 

“Don’t worry, you’ll wake up in time for the meeting, if not, I’ll come and wake you up.”

 

 _Damn_ , _1833_ —or _San-san_ , as Furuya has taken to call her— _hasn’t changed._

 

The door slams behind her, and Kazami groans. _Not one bit_.

 

Staring at the pills, he throws them in his mouth and washes it down with the water, putting the emptied glass on the nightstand before forcing himself back. As much as he wanted to try and get in touch with Furuya again, he knew he needed the rest, any more and he would probably drop on his feet— _or maybe that’s just the sleeping pills talking._

 

As his consciousness slips, he wonders if he imagines his phone vibrating and lighting up for a second, before dying— _which meant he really should have asked for a charger. But that wasn’t now._

_If he’s phone’s dead, he can charge it tomorrow and use another phone._

_If it was urgent it should have been sent to all of his phones._

 

…

 

Haibara cocks a brow at the sighing detective.

 

“And? What did you want to talk to me about?”

 

“Hm?” Haibara twitches, honestly annoyed—not to mention, her nerves have been high strung ever since this raid began—not that she was allowed to even step out small bases to operate on the surveillance and keep the others updated. Speaking of, she needed to talk about that with both Akai and Kudou’s father. Keeping a mental note on that, she focuses her attention on the Osakan.

 

“I’m talking about the fact that you already know the answers but asked him anyway just to rile him up and distract so you can knock him out. _Now_ , talk.” Hattori sighs before his feigned easy-going demeanor is completely wiped off his face.

 

“Tha’ shoul’ honestly be mah line. Ther’s a reason why tha’ Absinthe guy took ‘im. An’ I wanna know.” Haibara tenses, though she had the ( _dis_ )pleasure of meeting Absinthe in her days inside the Organization, there was no way she was about to spend the whole day with him. Not to mention, the man had this aura that generally unnerved _anyone_.

 

“I can’t say much… I did meet Absinthe _once_ , however that isn’t enough to actually gain an in-depth understanding of someone… not to mention… he was severely… _unhinged._ ” Hattori’s face scrunches up, and she understands. Not only was the man insane, but he was also a psychopath who if it came to it— _wait, now that you mention it_ …

“However, as mad as he is, he’s also frighteningly clever. He actually warned me of that long-term plan Gin laid out for my sister, he said that it was all a ploy to kill her, whether or not she succeeded… I had…” she swallows, chest and throat suddenly tight. “… not believed him. I thought he was just trying to rile me up like all the other members did—so I played it off. Acted as if anything he said didn’t affect me in any way. But… he saw through it, though he didn’t announce it, in fact. He laughed it off.

However, if there was anything at all I could remember most about him—”

 

_… Absinthe had been picked up by a woman with a soothing vibe—she swore now felt familiar, a complete opposite to Absinthe’s, albeit slightly familiar…_

 

“—was that there were just things he just _knew_.” Hattori’s brows furrowed in obvious confusion.

 

“Wha’dya mean?”

 

“I mean—”

 

“Both of you,” any further words she was about to say is cut off with sharp twin yelps as both she and Hattori whirled to face Kudou’s father who’s standing just short of the doorway. Hearts in their throat as the man’s expression didn’t even change. “Do awaken Kuroba-kun in an hour and a half, we’re going to have another meeting, if you have anything to share regarding the members, please do so where everyone can hear it.”

 

“We’re telling them?” Yuusaku nods.

 

“Well, nothing about the apoptoxin’s _effects_ , so I expect Haibara-san to properly filter it?” she nods, of course, she already had a background story and excuse for that ever since he told her to before the first raid. “But other than that, yes. Any information about the members, especially personal encounter is a tremendous aid in our side. We’ll see you there.”

They both nodded, about to sigh when the man speaks up again—and Haibara couldn’t help but feel that there was something _off_.

 

(The man had been acting weird since they got back from their respective first base raids.)

 

“Also…” they both turn to look at him again, and it sends chills down Haibara’s spine to see the man draped in the shadows, eyes barely visible—a sense of _familiarity_. “Do take care to discuss things with a closed door, an activated jammer, and always be under the assumption of being in enemy territory.” It slams into her, having heard a similar warning before.

And she can’t help but feel lightheaded.

 

_Absinthe… and Kudou-san._

“Damn… tha’ was scary… who knew Kudou’s ol’man coul’ be tha’ terrifyin’.”

_Not to mention, Kudou-kun…_

“Hm? Oi, lil’ Neechan, ya okay? Yer lookin’ a lil’ pale.”

 

_They all shared the same tinge of aura to them._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **(OwO**
> 
> **So…**
> 
> Sorry, guys I went ahead and wrote a whole bunch of random scenes for _**Ri24—Blood-**_ , though it cannot be uploaded cause they don’t happen in order… including a smut—yes, you read that right. I can’t help, they’re so adorable together… my mind's just… yeah. =w=
> 
>  
> 
> And YouTube is wonderfully distracting…
> 
>  
> 
> **Until the next chapter~**
> 
> **Adieu.**
> 
> **—DescriptivePessimism-DAA)**


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